Friday, October 2, 2009
Check out my dog!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
LAY OFF THE SWEETS MAN!!
"Hello ma'am, spare cheeseburger? Its for a noble cause! Hey! Hey you! Yeah you mister! Got a spare taco?" Yep, that's him: your neighborhood food-aholic. His brain is occupied not by grey-matter, but spaghetti. His eyes search for food, his ears hear it calling his name:"Eat me steve! Gorge yourself on my deliciousness!" His blood (or the soda that runs through his veins), and even his very D.N.A. is so absorbed in food that our victim, "Steve," cares nothing about taking showers, having a house, or getting a job. Nope, it's all food for Steve... poor guy.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
muy delicioso
Cake
My nostrils decoded the sweet, savory taste of a delicious vanilla cake almost instantaneously; my heavy eyelids open grudgingly. Surrounded by my cheerful family, my fluffy white dog, and my spontaneous mom retrieving the cake from the blazing oven, I could not help but smile and be happy as well. The light brown table is bared down with the elbows of my mom’s hungry customers. “Sizzle!” sputters the newly baked cake. An overhead fan whispers overhead, somewhat prominent from the rest of the room’s sound. Delight fills my waiting ears as, “Clang!” the plate supporting the scrumptious white cake lands on the table. Before anyone could stop me, I procure a finger-full of frivolous frosting. As my naughty index- finger scoops a morsel of deliciousness, I first feel the soft, foamy texture of the cake and then, “Wha-Bam!” My mom’s agile hand attacks my own in less then a second. My wrist throbbing and vibrating, I decide to lay off the cake. My piece cut and finally in front of me, my fork dives into the cake. In haste to retrieve the flavor, I choke on a mouthful. My neck tightens, my veins bulge, like bubbles ready to pop. I spit it out of my throat, my ordeal over. My lungs expand with fresh air; I a little dizzy from the situation, but my dumbstruck brain returns to sanity. Staring intently into my color-flushed face, my family checks that I am alive. I signify the truth of my existence by taking another, much slower bite of cake. “Finally,” I sigh to myself, “heaven.” The sweet, sugary flavors cascade into my mouth like an avalanche. The aftertaste of sweetness renders me drowsy, and my brain slips into a comfortable sleep.
For my writing class this year, I had a fun time. Nice teacher, good teaching skills... anyway, I was assigned homework every night for the 15 days I was employed in the class. Just so happened that my teacher was a literature and composition teacher (A.K.A. Grammer) so that is what I learned up until the last three days of the class. We actually did some creative writing for our creative writing class (no way right?). this piece of homework was one in the third to last day so we had just started writing creatively. My original prompt was to appeal to the seven senses using descriptive and thought-provoking words. I am content with my work here; one of my more substantial scripts if you ask me.
My nostrils decoded the sweet, savory taste of a delicious vanilla cake almost instantaneously; my heavy eyelids open grudgingly. Surrounded by my cheerful family, my fluffy white dog, and my spontaneous mom retrieving the cake from the blazing oven, I could not help but smile and be happy as well. The light brown table is bared down with the elbows of my mom’s hungry customers. “Sizzle!” sputters the newly baked cake. An overhead fan whispers overhead, somewhat prominent from the rest of the room’s sound. Delight fills my waiting ears as, “Clang!” the plate supporting the scrumptious white cake lands on the table. Before anyone could stop me, I procure a finger-full of frivolous frosting. As my naughty index- finger scoops a morsel of deliciousness, I first feel the soft, foamy texture of the cake and then, “Wha-Bam!” My mom’s agile hand attacks my own in less then a second. My wrist throbbing and vibrating, I decide to lay off the cake. My piece cut and finally in front of me, my fork dives into the cake. In haste to retrieve the flavor, I choke on a mouthful. My neck tightens, my veins bulge, like bubbles ready to pop. I spit it out of my throat, my ordeal over. My lungs expand with fresh air; I a little dizzy from the situation, but my dumbstruck brain returns to sanity. Staring intently into my color-flushed face, my family checks that I am alive. I signify the truth of my existence by taking another, much slower bite of cake. “Finally,” I sigh to myself, “heaven.” The sweet, sugary flavors cascade into my mouth like an avalanche. The aftertaste of sweetness renders me drowsy, and my brain slips into a comfortable sleep.
For my writing class this year, I had a fun time. Nice teacher, good teaching skills... anyway, I was assigned homework every night for the 15 days I was employed in the class. Just so happened that my teacher was a literature and composition teacher (A.K.A. Grammer) so that is what I learned up until the last three days of the class. We actually did some creative writing for our creative writing class (no way right?). this piece of homework was one in the third to last day so we had just started writing creatively. My original prompt was to appeal to the seven senses using descriptive and thought-provoking words. I am content with my work here; one of my more substantial scripts if you ask me.
anxiety
A screaming, impatient crowd awaiting the beginning of the production, Stan can only think of one thing, "Oh poop." As the star of the broadway, "masterpiece," Stan has to nail this. One false move and tomatoes to the face for our protagonist. "Oohhh..."
Thursday, May 21, 2009
phsyco
The now chicken nugget residents of cocka-doodle-doo city scream in horror as their city turns to flames. the benedict arnold rooster you see here is firing a destructo-ray. The destructo-ray brings demolition to everything in contact, from architecture, to other chickens. This rooster turned against his own clan in the misuse of the weapon. It was a sad day.
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