why do i like to write silly stories?
do you spose if you got konked on the head with something really hard and big that was like ya know thrown off some kind of large tower that you might forget how to dial a phone? okay good. I'll attribute it to that.
i lifted weights today. i feel very buff. i also ran three miles. i feel very out of shape. it took me 24.5 minutes. it should not take that long. also i moved up a size in jeans. however, i do not feel that self conscious seeing as i am mearly a 0 regular now. so i will not complain and get people angry with me.
i feel like writing a story.... this won't be good. i'm a bit foggy minded right now.
There once was a boy originally from the bright and sunny shores of patagonia, a lovely island somewhere off the coast of Mexico. This boy never knew what it was like to be cold, because when he was very young he had been cursed. It actually all started wayyyy back when his grandma's great grandpa stole a chicken from a wrathful transexual witch, but thats a whole nother story. SO anyways, you know the bit, the heshe put a curse on the grandpa, and his childrens children and their childrens children and so on... but don't worry that isn't what this story was about. HOwever, that did leave this poor little boy from the island of patagonia in an interesting predicament. His whole family, almost immediately after birth, had sprouted a thick coat of feathers all over their bodies. Try as they may to rid themselves of this permanent jacket they could not. As soon as they plucked a feather, two more would soon take its place. SO the little boy lived his whole life, cursing his layer of feathers and wishing that he were like the other boys, those boys that looked like humans. This little boy adapted the name chicken, probably because his coat of feathers which made him strongly resemble a chicken. and also probably because he didn't exactly help himself by pecking the ground every so often and squaking randomly in the middle of his classes. Chicken was ridiculed and harrassed every day, and would leave class in a fit of squaks and tears. It only became worse when he began to lay eggs. the children would follow him and throw the eggs at him, causing chicken quite a bit of trouble. One day however, America decided that it had too many nuclear missiles so it decided to randomly fire them as a display of power. little did they know that the little island of patagonia was being bombarded by the barage of little and big boy look alikes. Chicken was lucky enough to escape the nuclear missiles and was thrown hopelessly out to sea, where he managed to stay bouyant until he reached land. After his long and strenuous journey he stepped onto solid land, which he would later know as Russia. Soon chicken realized that his feathers no longer made him hot and itchy and uncomfortable, but kept him warm and safe from the strong winds of the russian tundra. He made a home with a group of russian female weight lifters who consequently had a large amount of fur themselves, and chicken fit right in. The only real problem he had was when a visitor from the starving village down the road tried to behead him with a butchers knife. Other then that chicken was doing alright. Unfortunately, weeks down the road, Chicken lost all of his feathers, because of radiation from the nuclear missiles. He soon became cold and lonely. so desperately searching for his place in life he changed his name to Regis Phildman and started a career in hollywood. The ENd.
shamfully by: Chrissy Weaver
i lifted weights today. i feel very buff. i also ran three miles. i feel very out of shape. it took me 24.5 minutes. it should not take that long. also i moved up a size in jeans. however, i do not feel that self conscious seeing as i am mearly a 0 regular now. so i will not complain and get people angry with me.
i feel like writing a story.... this won't be good. i'm a bit foggy minded right now.
There once was a boy originally from the bright and sunny shores of patagonia, a lovely island somewhere off the coast of Mexico. This boy never knew what it was like to be cold, because when he was very young he had been cursed. It actually all started wayyyy back when his grandma's great grandpa stole a chicken from a wrathful transexual witch, but thats a whole nother story. SO anyways, you know the bit, the heshe put a curse on the grandpa, and his childrens children and their childrens children and so on... but don't worry that isn't what this story was about. HOwever, that did leave this poor little boy from the island of patagonia in an interesting predicament. His whole family, almost immediately after birth, had sprouted a thick coat of feathers all over their bodies. Try as they may to rid themselves of this permanent jacket they could not. As soon as they plucked a feather, two more would soon take its place. SO the little boy lived his whole life, cursing his layer of feathers and wishing that he were like the other boys, those boys that looked like humans. This little boy adapted the name chicken, probably because his coat of feathers which made him strongly resemble a chicken. and also probably because he didn't exactly help himself by pecking the ground every so often and squaking randomly in the middle of his classes. Chicken was ridiculed and harrassed every day, and would leave class in a fit of squaks and tears. It only became worse when he began to lay eggs. the children would follow him and throw the eggs at him, causing chicken quite a bit of trouble. One day however, America decided that it had too many nuclear missiles so it decided to randomly fire them as a display of power. little did they know that the little island of patagonia was being bombarded by the barage of little and big boy look alikes. Chicken was lucky enough to escape the nuclear missiles and was thrown hopelessly out to sea, where he managed to stay bouyant until he reached land. After his long and strenuous journey he stepped onto solid land, which he would later know as Russia. Soon chicken realized that his feathers no longer made him hot and itchy and uncomfortable, but kept him warm and safe from the strong winds of the russian tundra. He made a home with a group of russian female weight lifters who consequently had a large amount of fur themselves, and chicken fit right in. The only real problem he had was when a visitor from the starving village down the road tried to behead him with a butchers knife. Other then that chicken was doing alright. Unfortunately, weeks down the road, Chicken lost all of his feathers, because of radiation from the nuclear missiles. He soon became cold and lonely. so desperately searching for his place in life he changed his name to Regis Phildman and started a career in hollywood. The ENd.
shamfully by: Chrissy Weaver