Tonight is the dance, so I am staying in the dorm over the weekend. Last night, One of my roommates which I never mention Chris and I were the only ones in our room, and we stayed up until 1:45 watching a movie on his (sniff) Mac.
This morning, I slept in, in my warm room and extremely comfortable bed, and when I woke up, I watched another movie alone on my other roommates computer. After, I came to the public library, where I am now, wearing a sweatshirt and pajama pants and eating a sucker. I am not at home, so I don't have to do Saturday chores,
I am really rested and comfortable, and I don't want it to end. When I get back to school, I'm going to eat a ramen. Man! That's gonna feel good in my tummy!
Recently I have realized how much my blog has sucked, so I will try my hardest to make it better.
First, I will start with a short weird story I wrote last night, one which I am not completely satisfied with, but I will post it any way. Here goes. Samuel, you can read this if you want, but this is the bedtime story I will be telling you.
When I was seven years old, I had two good friends, a boy-with-glasses named James and my ginger-cat Christopher. My cat was especially cool because he could talk, and James was especially boring because he couldn’t. I hung out with him though because he was good company, and because he had extremely good luck for finding things. One time, he found a little plastic toy boat, which we would play with for hours everyday after school. Only after about a month of playing with it tirelessly did it accidentally wreck on a rock, breaking open and revealing about forty-five dollars that had been in the boat the whole time.
On this particular afternoon, we were all a bit depressed, each for our own reasons. I was disappointed because I had lost my lucky marble while throwing it at some ducks in the park. Christopher was sad because I haven’t mentioned him enough in this story, and James was depressed because he got last in our class spelling bee again. He loses every year.
We were all pretty sad, so we were trying to cheer up by doing our favorite thing to do, wander in the park. James was looking for my marble, and I was watching him look for it. I don’t know what Christopher was doing.
James was looking around the sandy area under a bridge in the park, a place where we went every day to look for things, when all of a sudden, he moaned loudly.
“Did you find something James?” I yelled to him, unnecessarily loud since he was right in front of me.
Since he couldn’t talk, he merely shook his head and pointed to his head and then to a broken and dirty refrigerator, showing that he only hit his head on the fridge.
“I’m pretty sure that fridge was not here the last forty-seven days that we were here, I remember it from forty-eight days ago though. I remember we couldn’t get it open. I‘m so happy, I thought that we‘d never see that fridge again.”
James nodded, and went over to examine the fridge. Quickly he turned and excitedly gestured for me to come closer. When I got closer, I saw that the lock that had been there forty-eight days ago was gone, and that the fridge was completely open-able.
James was closer to it, so he cautiously walked over and opened the fridge. As soon as he did, a huge brown arm with long disgusting nails shot out and grabbed James around his chest. I yelped, but for some reason, James was very calm, and he even smiled and patted the arm. Then, his eyes got huge, and the arm quickly pulled him into the fridge, the door slamming shut immediately after.
I was to the right of the fridge, so the door blocked the inside of the fridge the whole time, and I never saw the inside, but the inside gave off a light red light the lit up the dark area under the bridge. When the door closed, I was left alone in the semi-darkness.
I realized that James could be in trouble, probably because a brown arm just pulled him into a fridge, so I ran the five or six feet to the fridge gripped the handle and pulled. The door did not open however, and when I looked down, I saw that the fridge was locked up with a hefty blue padlock.
I panicked and looked around for something to break the lock. In the sand next the me, there was a strong looking hatchet, so I lifted it up over my head to break in and save James.
“Let me do it!” A voice interrupted from behind.
“Oh hey Christopher, James just got pulled into this fridge, and now it’s locked.” I was a calm person at the time, and since things like this seemed to happen to James a lot, I assumed he was OK. I still wanted to help him though, so I lifted the hatchet again over my head.
“Stop, let me do it!” Christopher said again.
“You can’t swing a hatchet, you’re a cat!” I grinned.
“I’m not a normal cat, I can talk remember?”
“Ehhh… I dunno, the Hatchet is bigger than you!”
“Just gimme it.”
I handed the hatchet to Christopher, and he easily lifted it and brought it down solidly on the padlock, shattering it like glass.
My jaw dropped, and I looked at Christopher with surprise, “That… was pretty cool.”
“Yeah, let’s get James out of there.”
We both pulled open the fridge door, only to see the normal inside of the fridge, except with more mold.
“Where can he be?” we both wondered aloud at the exact same time.
TO BE CONTINUED…
So um, there. I might continue it, I might not, it depends on how much other people like it.
I mentioned that possible date... two days ago? Well, I'm not going with her, but I'm OK with it, since I never had a date before anyway. Anyway, she made me promise to dance with her ATLEAST once though, so everything is good.
Whenever I blog about things like that, I feel really weird, so I probably will never do that again. If you like stuff like that, read the previous paragraph a couple times, It's all you're going to get.
Remember when the Jeremiah the German student and I collected cans and got three fifty? That's nothing. Last night we collected three times as many, and we had already been collecting throughout the entire week. We just might get over five dollars.
Also, HEY! THE 'A' ON THIS KEYBOARD IS RUBBED OFF. GAH!
Also, Jeremiah and I are trying to write a comic. We plan on it being a pretty good length, but I don't know how well it will turn out. I dont wan't to tell you much about it, but It has something to do with an ugly president.
How long does a blog have to be before it's too long? Is this too long?
Ah, now for tags, my least favorite part.
