**Drumrolll.......THE STORY BLOG!!!!!
padenpro...@gmail.com
University Scholars compositions. Only fictional compositions less
than 6 pages in this blog please...if you have longer stories you
would like to post, post them under a separate blog. Nonfiction blog
will open shortly, and if you want to start it, go ahead. Thanks!
Koren
enjoy.
TIME UPON A ONCE THERE WAS A THING. IT'S NAME WAS MARTIN. HE WAS A
TOURIST FROM FRANCE BUT GOT LOST ON HIS WAY TO THE ISLE OF MAN AND
WOUND UP IN LOS ANGELES. THERE HE MET A DRAGON REBEL PRINCESS AND THEY
WENT FOR DRINKS AND PLAYED MINIGOLF. THEN THE DRAGON ATE MARTIN AND
ALL OF LOS ANGELES. THEN IT EXPLODED. AND ALL THE MUSHROOM PEOPLE
CHEERED. THE END.
Koren
"But James...why?" pleaded Carol Beth Ann. James lit a cigarette and
looked out towards the desert.
"I haven't been totally honest with you," he said with a sigh.
"What do you mean?" she whispered, clutching a hot pink handkerchief
to her chest.
"Well Carol Beth Ann...I am...,"
"No!"
"I AM A SNOW ZOMBIE!"
"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" shrieked Carol Beth Ann calmly. Then she ran out
across the desert. James followed her. And melted. So CBA drank him
and moved to Florida to be an insurance saleswoman.
The end.
On May 20, 7:58 pm, Koren <Almaste...@gmail.com> wrote:
> TIME UPON A ONCE THERE WAS A THING. IT'S NAME WAS MARTIN. HE WAS A
> TOURIST FROM FRANCE BUT GOT LOST ON HIS WAY TO THE ISLE OF MAN AND
> WOUND UP IN LOS ANGELES. THERE HE MET A DRAGON REBEL PRINCESS AND THEY
> WENT FOR DRINKS AND PLAYED MINIGOLF. THEN THE DRAGON ATE MARTIN AND
> ALL OF LOS ANGELES. THEN IT EXPLODED. THE END.
>
> On May 20, 7:37 pm, padenproducti...@gmail.com wrote:
>
padenpro...@gmail.com
Wise men define a mistake as a learning experience. The immature
define it as someone else's fault. Politicians define it as an
unfortunate event, and Webster's New World Thesaurus defines it as a
noun, and a synonym of the words "gaffe, faux pas, and error." Encarta
Dictionary says that it means, "To misunderstand or misinterpret
something." Frankly, I think that the first three can be considered
mistakes themselves, according to the dictionary. I can tell that two
of the thesaurus's synonyms are written in French, but that does not
help. Finally, if one reads the dictionary's definition, re-reads the
thesaurus's synonyms, and then thinks at length about the way the two
are stated, one will notice that the dictionary's definition contrasts
the thesaurus's only English word, "error." One will notice that the
dictionary's definition allows anyone making a mistake to say, "I
misunderstood," while the thesaurus simply calls it an error, not
leaving room for an excuse. Giving both the dictionary and the
thesaurus some credibility, I decided to search elsewhere for the
meaning of a mistake. My quest brought me to http://www.despair.com/mis24x30prin.html.
This site explains very fluently the concept of a mistake by stating
that, "The purpose of your life may only be to serve as a warning to
others."
What mistake did I make? Fear forbids me to write its name. The
effect of my mistake cost me thirty horrible seconds. I scampered
wildly around the room, in so much pain I could not stand still. My
mouth stinging dreadfully, I dashed madly outside. Stars blinked in my
eyes. The burning sensation in my mouth reached an unbearable peak.
Darting into the house, I skidded to the sink. A repulsive orange
liquid cascaded from my mouth, and trickled down into the drain.
Ever since that terrible experience, nightmares have become frequent
occurrences for me. Stinging orange liquids have haunted my sleep. A
nightmare of bright orange storm clouds raining the stuff down on
entire cites may disrupt my peace of mind on the few nights that I can
close my eyes. Evil men, figments of my subconscious imagination,
force me to drink it with breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I dread each
terrible night, pondering all day how the men will force the terrible
stuff down my throat, or whether the orange hurricane will hit Hawaii,
New York, or Paris tonight. The worst dreams involved orange floods
that burned people's tongues out if they allowed it to seep into their
mouths, and orange blobs or puddles consuming screaming people like
quicksand.
I call this nightmarish stuff poison. Others, however, gave it
another name before they realized its toxicity. Calling it "Citrus
Listerine," they sold it as mouthwash. When I informed the
manufacturers of my discovery, they informed the warehouses, so the
warehouses, not wanting to lose too many profits, added water and put
it on clearance. Soon, when the market had run out of Citrus
Listerine, fanatical dentists marched around the manufacturing plants.
Most carried large signs saying that they did not care what happened
to their patients, as long as their teeth did not get cavities. Now
frantic, the flustered manufacturers assured the livid dentists that
they would continue production. They requested to the warehouses to
keep adding water, as they did not want to lose profits by adding it
themselves. The warehouses agreed and promptly stopped putting in
water because they, too, did not want to lose profits. Dentists from
the International Dental Association for the Protection of Teeth
(IDAPT) and their political sponsors very effectively covered it up as
a hoax, using the money collected in a fundraiser intended for further
advancement in mouthwash technology.
Always remember, IDAPT will tell you anything to get you to use
Citrus Listerine, but you must not ever believe them. My most
important point in this document is acknowledged by Despair, Inc in my
thesis statement. Very much, I hope that my experience can serve as a
warning to you. Neither you, I hope, nor any other person who reads
this, will ever try Citrus Listerine, for their life's sake. In
addition, I hope that, at only fifteen years old, I have not fulfilled
the sole purpose of my life. I hope that I will not soon become a case
in which, in the words of Despair, Inc., "The journey of a thousand
miles sometimes ends very, very badly."
padenpro...@gmail.com
I don't know what gives me the willies. I'm not even sure what the
willies
are. I know there are probably things that do give me the willies, but
I
need to look in the dictionary first so I can find out just what the
willies
are. Even then, there may not be things in this world that give me the
willies, so I'll be disappointed at having spent so much time and
effort
trying to tell someone what gives me the willies. The definition of a
willy
is an uncomfortable, anxious, or fearful feeling. Maybe there are some
things in the world that give me the willies.
On May 20, 7:37 pm, padenproducti...@gmail.com wrote:
Rick Vega
Just ten minutes before you started reading this, a man named Frank
was standing on his balcony. He looked out over the rainforest. Then
he decided to go monkey hunting (He, like me, hates monkeys). grabbed
his gun and ran off down the trail.
"Halt!" said a voice.
Frank halted.
"Are you monkey hunting?"
"I am."
"Well, I would like to mention my disdain for monkey hunting. It
is a criminal practice to hunt a fellow primate. You offend me." With
that, the monkey spat on his feet.
"I'll think about it," Rick said.
"You had better," replied the monkey, "Because monkeys might just
take up man hunting."
"Oh dear."
"You'd better believe it."
"Well, I guess I don't want you to tell any of your fellow
monkeys about this, do I?"
"I won't if you don't shoot me."
"And you will if I do?"
"Yes. Your gun is just a taser."
"Awww, man! How'd you know!"
"I am smart."
"I suppose," Rick said, and then he trudged sadly home.
THE END!!
--Insert thunderous applause--
Matt Paden
Mary had a little lamb.
It wasn't always a litle lamb though. One day it became a big lamb, after it ate all the vegetables in her garden. One day, Mary rode her big lamb to school, left him in a nice, shady parking space, and went inside. During recess, a boy slapped her. So the big lamb ran in and kicked him in his double chin. Not THE END.
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