Morning Fun

Today, I awoke with a start. Then I knew why. My little brother was jumping on me and my bed screaming "MOM SAYS TO GET UP SLEEPY HEAD!!" My entire body felt sore and I was cramping all over. As soon as my brother saw I was awake, he ran with all his might out the door. I slowly and painfully pulled myself out of bed and went to find and punish this little imp. When I found him he was sitting on the back steps of our house. I made a raging charge towards him, ending in a gracefull but determined dive straight into our freshly cleaned glass sliding door. The door held firm, but my face didn't. Through a cloud of stars and blurriness I barely made out the form of a tiny human moving away toward the back gate.

My head was spinning, but after some self assesment I desided to once again pursue my prey. When I went outside, my brother walked right up to me wagging his tail. I immediately plunged, pinning him to the cement. But wait! I must be blind! This isn't my brother, it's my dog! After this incident, I desided to postpone the punishment of the imp until some stars had once again disappeared. After an hour of laying on the couch, no stars had left, but the sun had come. "Oh, I give up!" I said to myself aloud. Suddenly, there was Mr. Imp jumping all over me and the couch screaming "MOM SAYS IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

Life in the Spotligh, part four

When Gore started yelling we finally woke up. He was walking calmly around the room, smashing pitchers, throwing chairs, kicking mirrors; he was amazing. I have never seen such professional fit throwing in my life! We all retreated to the bathroom and locked ourselves in. After an emergency consultation (and placing a poll on the web), we decided to come out fighting.
We threw open the door and charged out yelling with all our might. Gore glared at us and suddenly we found ourselves retreating again. Al made a pounce in our direction and then Brock whispered, "Why did you wake us up!?"



Encouraged by this, Josh yelled "WE QUIT!! HA! HA! HA! NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" Gore lunged at us, grabbed us by the back of our necks and dumped us in a pile in the gutter. He then climbed into his tiny green tricycle car and proceeded to putt-putt down the road. 10 minutes and 3 feet later, I saw Al get out of the car, pick it up, and slam it repeatedly against a wall. Then I blacked out.


When I woke up, I was lying on the cement floor of a jail cell. Apparently the Vegas police system thought Josh, Brock and I were just a few wednesday morning drunks. After being released, we were hauled off to the Las Vegas Sanitary Facility, otherwise known as the dump. Soon all three of us had collected a few instruments and we decided to put on a show for those dull Waste Management workers.


This time, Josh had an old ukulele, Brock was on a broken piano, and I had a broom for a mic. Under the circumstances, I thought it sounded pretty good. Some guy started playing this cool beat behind us. It sounded like "beep, beep, beep, beep..." Maybe we should have got the hint, but we didn't, and the truck ran us over.


Now we are all home, separated forever. We decided being around each other gave us all bad luck. So much for my band.

Shakespeare: A Shakescam

Shakespeare was a scam! Come to think of it, he still is! He is simply the face for the cheating industry of arts to hide behind! He never wrote a single play. Or tragedy. Or poem. Or comedy. Or romance. Or, well, you get the point. He was an illiterate bum, living off the hard work of others. He just sat around all day watching super bowl pre-plays and eating popcorn!

I am sure this is all old news to some of you, but nobody knows who really wrote all those long boring money grabbing works of "art," and I am nobody. Soon I won't be nobody though, 'cause I'm going to proclaim this to the whole world! Maybe I'll even make a movie! I will get so well known, I will become president and outlaw works by "Shakespeare." Maybe I'll even find his descendants and throw them all in jail!

So who really wrote all that Shakespeare stuff? His wife and kids! Not only was he a bum, he was a heartless slave driver, and his slaves were his family. He forced them to write, and when they wrote something that he did not like, he whipped them every hour for the next twenty-four hours! When they wrote something he did like, he published it under his name and got more popcorn money!

Eventually, his family got fed up. But they didn't do anything, except write some more. Finally Shakespeare's wife died and his kids all ran away. From that day until he died he had no food at all. Poor guy. I know what it is like to not have food and try to watch football. It isn't very fun. You sit there knowing the fridge is full of food, but you never go get some because then all your friends make you get something for them. So you all wait, and wait and soon everyone is passed out from hunger.

So I am calling for a world-wide boycott of Shakespeare! He is the reason there is never enough food for the football games. He must be taken care of, and then all us football addicts can once again live in peace!

Jellyfish Rides!

I have a friend who lives on a ranch. Amazing, isn't it? I agree, it's absolutely amazing that I have a friend. Anyways, the ranch has horses. The other day my friend invited me to come ride a horse at his ranch. Ok, ok, to be totally honest my friend (Fred) is antisocial, to me anyways, so I had to help him invite me. So yesterday I showed up at his house, ready to ride! Fred already had my horse saddled and put in a skinny little stall so that the horse could not move. Fred said this was so I could get on easier. Fred explained everything about riding a horse, then strapped some spurs to my yellow mud boots and gave me a slap on the back that nearly broke my neck. As I was climbing down onto the horse, it was jumping up, trying to get out of the stall. Fred said that was a good sign, it meant the horse would be really docile when it was let into the big arena.
With a bit of trouble, I finally got my hands strapped down onto the horse. I never realized before that you were supposed to strap down your hands so tight. Fred opened the gate and the horse took off, bucking all around the arena. I frantically tried with all my might to slam my spurs into the horses rump like Fred had told me to do to make him slow down, but it wasn't working. The horse bucked me off over and over, but since my hands were strapped to him I always ended up back on top again. This was a wild ride! Once or twice the horse bucked me off on his side, then ran sideways against the wall, crushing every bone in my body. Finally the horse bucked me so hard, one of my hands tore off at the wrist, allowing me to slip the other one out.
After laughing his head off, Fred called an ambulance to take me to the hospital. I tell you what, hospital life is good! All the food you can eat, video games (which I can't play with only one hand), no school and lots of TV. Fred has invited me to come back any time, which I will do as soon as I have my new hand. This time, though, I'll be sure to kick even harder.

Insane Insults #1: Singers

1. "Who needs to visit pier 39 to hear a seal bark when they can just listen to you sing?"

2. "Your voice sounds just like the cat I ran over the other day. Only the cat had the decency to die, whereas you keep on singing!"

3. "The sound of your voice is like the cry of a cougar echoing through a canyon."

4. "You should sing with a pack of dogs. They'd be a great backup chorus."