Writers Block

Writers block. yep I've got it. I guess I'm lacking inspiration. I blame it on school. It serioulsly lowers iq points.

Summer

Summer is a time for joy and fun

But the days go by so fast

The warm breeze blows under the hot sun

Lifting our spirits while we try to make it last

Summer marks the end of school days

And we say hello to something better

While we make memories, each in our own ways

That we will hold on to like a favorite sweater

Now summer is near its end

Towards the new school year we start to work

While we wait for summer again

Because around the corner autumn lurks

So farewell summer, we wait for your return

But we can daydream of you while we learn

Laugh much

So, ever read the road? or seen the movie? yea, well i made a much more exciting parody of it. ENJOY! 

The Lane

A Parody

Part I:

The man and the boy

     The man and the boy walked on the lane. They walked, and walked, and walked. Always walking.

They carried with them only a picnic basket.

     In this basket, they had four plastic bags to tie around their feet, a package of rope, a rusty pair of kitchen scissors, and their prized and beloved can of mangoes.

     Walking on the Lane, they understood only one thing. Never eat the mangoes.

     They walked among the ghost towns of the abandoned Coast. Their destination was the North, where there were laws preventing others from stealing another person’s mangoes. (They had a high respect for mangoes in the North, you see.) Along the way, they constantly looked for ways to protect the mangoes. Often, they would have to fend off people and animals who tried to steal their highly coveted mangoes.

     On one such occasion, things got severe. As they were walking, they found an abandoned barn. The man thought this was a great place to protect the mangoes for a while while they rested, for every few minutes, the boy had a new complaint. So they went inside. 

     The man looked around. There was a noise from behind a hay bale.

     “What was that?” the boy whimpered, “Maybe we should leave!”         “ We have to find a place to protect the food.”

     “Ok.”

     “Ok.”

     The man looked behind the bale and could not believe what he saw.

     Behind the bale lay  a ferocious looking German Sheppard. It let out a guttural snarl.

     “Oh! Can we keep it? Please!” the boy was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

     Before the man could say no, the dog stopped snarling and wagged its tale playfully.

     “Ah! Man eating dog!” the man and boy both let out effeminate squeals of terror as they ran frantically towards the door. They slammed the doors and bolted it shut.

     They ran until they were once again on the lane. The man stopped to check their progress. They kept walking. The man just knew that they were mere days from starvation. As they came across a mound, the man thought he felt something crunch underneath his foot.

     It was a bag of cheetos. The man picked it up. He gave it to 

 the boy to eat. They kept walking.

     After night had fallen, they had stopped to sleep. As they lay there, the boy cried.

     “I’m really hungry. I’m cold. I wish I was with my mother,” the boy sulked the long string of complaints.

     The dad sighed. The boy did this frequently. He tried to quiet the boy, but he wasn’t having it. The boy stood up, stomped his foot, and demanded to know why they were suffering. The man had no answer.

     Some time later, they were walking yet again, they saw a shadow in the distance. They cautiously crept closer. They realized it was a man.

     “Give me all yo food! I said ‘Give. Me. All. Yo. Food’” the stranger demanded.

     “B-b-b-but we aren’t supposed to eat the food” the boy stuttered.

     “Now!” the stranger hissed. He raised his hands and reached towards them. He morphed into a creature that was more demon than man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dagger.

     Dude, the man drawled, you look like that rosta guy from Twilight!

     The stranger gave him a quizzical look.

     Whoa! You’re right! the boy gasped. Can we help him? Can we keep him? he begged.

     Then the man asked for his autograph.

     The stranger turned and ran.

Part II:
Ms.
Gertrude
Dubois 

     Ms Gertrude Dubois was the neighborhood busybody. If anyone ever knew anything about anyone, it was Ms Gertrude. Her favorite pastimes consisted of watching the innocent residents of Grey Lane walk by on the street through her front window and diagnose them with an array of psychological disorders (she was a psychologist in her much younger years).

     As she was people watching one day, she saw the man and the boy walking down Grey Lane. They appeared to be talking and pointing. Curious, Ms Gertrude looked up the street. There was nothing.

     “Well I declare!” Ms Gertrude exclaimed. She looked back at the man and the boy. She wondered what was the matter with them. Then it hit her.

     “Why they might be schizophrenic! I gotta do something! I gotta call somebody!” She picked up the phone. “The FBI? No. The CIA? No, that’s not it. Ms Crawford? The mayor? Betty White? No, no, those won’t do either. Think, Gertrude.” She tapped her foot and thought some more. “I got it!” She dialed a familiar number.

“Hello, GLPD? Yes, this is Gertrude. I have an emergency!” she paused, “No, the spook isn’t back. Yes, I do. I’m telling you I heard a noise in my attic. No, Mrs. Cartwright isn’t baking another poisonous omelet for Mr. Cartwright. Hey, there was something highly suspect about that ingredient. Yes, this is an emergency! I’d like to report two schizophrenic males walking down the lane. They’re menaces to society. I am not schizophrenic! Why I never-” she broke off. “Well good day to you officer. “ She slammed the phone down. 

“Well if they aren’t going to do something about it, then I will.”

Ms. Gertrude opened the door and walked to confront the two schizophrenics.

She soon stood in front of them. “Why you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” she wagged her bony finger at them.

“Cannibal!” they screamed in unison, running for what they believed was their lives.

“Why I ain’t no disgustin’ man eater! Get back here you good for nothing looney bums!” she grabbed the hems of her skirt and chased after them. When she nearly caught them, she delivered a big whack to the man’s head with her walking stick.

      “And you’re calling us crazy.” the man said in disbelief.

     “Why does everyone always think I’m crazy?” Ms Gertrude muttered.

     Despite the injury, both he and the boy managed to keep running and escape Ms Gertrude. As they were fleeing, the picnic basket that they had managed to keep fumbled from the man’s hands. Their precious can of mangoes fell out. Gertrude continued to, as she would say, “run them plum clean out of Grey Lane.”

     It was as they were almost out of Ms Gertrude’s sight that she noticed the fallen goods. She picked it up.

She ate the mangoes. The boy’s cry of despair as he looked back towards the tragedy was carried by the breeze that whispered through the lane.

The Convention- Final

Making sure I would not be seen or heard, I quietly crept out the back door and being certain that Igor was not around, I crept pass the grove and onto the street. After the unbelievable monster convention I had witnesses, it was frightening to be out so late and in the dark, so I had practically ran home and locked the door behind me. It was only when I was ready to go to sleep that night did I realize how tired I was. Amazingly I fell asleep quickly that night (with the lights on of course, there was no guarantee that a monster wasn’t lurking in the shadows).

The years following, I avoided the home, especially on Halloween, regardless of if there were any monsters or not. I wasn’t sure if the monsters I observed at their convention that night would ever go there again or if they needed to protect their anonymity and I wasn’t willing to risk getting caught. It was pure chance that it didn’t happen that fateful Halloween night and it was luck that I was able to observe the unbelievable event without incident. Even though that chilly October day was a unique experience and an amazing event, my common sense returned to me after walking away and I worked hard not to have a reoccurring happening. But from that night on, I was a wary believer.

Personal Apology

I would just like to say sorry for taking so long  to post part 2 of the Convention. In all of the chaos that is my life, i completely forgot!! Sorry!

A Warriors Ballad- Part II

Part II

The life he had chosen soon would take its toll

While he craved that love, for that girl he used to know

Slowly, he went insane, and everybody saw

That this young warrior lost his mind, indeed he had lost it all

They sent him on his way to find that lovely girl

But he then found out  she was gone and he had lost his whole world

Through this tale we can learn that it is better to risk it all

Than to give it up and suffer the fall

For if we take our chances we may avoid this fate

And  find true love before it is too late. 

A Warriors Ballad- Part I

Part I

A young lad off to war, to learn the way of the fist

A desperate mother, keeping her son was her only wish

But he left to lead a warrior’s life, to live his childhood dream

He would soon find out things aren’t what they seem

His heart told him what his brain would not hear, that end the end he’d die

He went in anyways and soon drowned in his pride 

For a while he beat the odds, and made it through seven years

Until one day he found someone that he would hold so dear

Midnight eyes and raven hair, the warrior fell in love

But the life he had chosen would intervene and take away his love

When he was called to lead a warrior’s life, one from up above