Actually I have no say in that, but if you're still reading this, then awesome. I'm on my way to controlling your mind. You're under my control. There's nothing you can do about it. See how you just moved? Maybe you didn't notice, but I did. *points to self* Thank me. Or don't, you ungrateful little blog reader who doesn't thank someone who controls their mind for her amazing efforts.
Now, minion, don't you want to hear a nice little story? I'm sure you do. Here we go, finally:
Today, my friend was writing this story about a person who died. It was really depressing until my other friend took the paper and wrote that the other person who was still alive went to get some candy and drowned, so now they're happy. Then he, another friend, and I took turns adding on to it as it got progressively stupider and stupider. It ended when the giant evil monkeyburgers told it to, once the cannibals who ate the people and a fat chinchilla went down the road to the alternate dimension once it was open after its repair work. This makes me ask myself if I'm really the crazy one in my group.
The rest of my day consisted of unimportant things such as classes and homework, with the odd fun thing. History was awkward/funny as usual thanks to my inability to think of it in anything other than Hetalia. I chased yet another friend around the band room this morning with a music stand or trombone, depending on which one was handy. I find it funny that people either find my evil grin to be horrifying or completely unimpressive.
On another note (lawlz band pun), I'm going to Solo and Ensemble tomorrow (band performance), where I can go onstage and find that my trombone is full of water/off tune/broken/I've forgotten how to play. Hopefully I can pull it off and not die or launch instruments across the auditorium.
Once upon a time, there was a zebra. He was just like any normal zebra, except for one thing-his ears were ridiculously out of proportion and about 3896 times the size of his head. All day long, he would walk around and say, "I hate these ears. They're so huge that I can barely keep my face from dragging the ground. Plus, I can hear things from across the world so I don't know when anyone's talking to me." As he walked, a small baby polar bear (who was very out of place) tried to get his attention. When it finally worked, the bear said, "Don't worry, Mr. Zebra. I know something that can help." So the zebra followed him to his apartment and did his best to squeeze in. When he finally got to the bear's room, he turned to the bear. "So what's your idea?" he asked. The bear smiled and said, "I never had one. I just wanted a pet zebra with huge ears."
MORAL: Never trust polar bears. They'll do ANYTHING to get a huge-eared zebra.
THE END
-Xenon
No comments:
Post a Comment