(Insert Essay Name Here)
By (insert my name here)
6th hour (not really, maybe, somewhat...)
To whom it may concern...
Hello dearest reader. How are you? That's great to hear. (If you are not feeling peachy as an apple, please disregard the previous statement.) I just wanted to let you know, that out of all the essays you picked up, I'm glad you chose mine. Really I have this touched deeply feeling in- oh wait no, that was a burp. Soooooo I don't know what rubric I'm supposed to using for this, let alone what it's supposed to be written about. I think I'll just let my mind wander and conjure up some stories if that's okay with you valued reader.
You know what? I'm gonna give you advice on how to meditate and clear your mind. (clears throat) Okay so lay/lie on your stomach. (I've never understood which word is proper to use in this case) Now chant these words out loud. Seriously, chant them out loud while reading this. Im-on-e-dee-yot. Chant faster. IM-ON-E-DEE-YOT! Faster! No, no, no, much faster than that. ROFL. I just made you call yourself an idiot :) All in good humor of course, I don't really think your an idiot. Next clear your mind of all negative thoughts like the fact you left the bath water running and you're going to end up flooding your house. Or that the debt crises just keeps getting worse and worse each passing day. Breathe in... Now out. Picture yourself standing in a meadow, with long, flowing, green grass. Where we live there are a bunch of snakes. So don't think about how just standing in the meadow, you're putting yourself in danger of getting bitten by snakes. My friend just informed me that me talking about snakes biting you, has probably made you think of snakes biting you. To make that better picture yourself with a can of snake repellant. Spray it all around. Bye-bye snakes, you won't be biting us today. Now your floating above the grand canyon. Don't think about how much it would hurt to fall down the big, rocky, BIG, grand canyon... At most you would have a VERY MINOR case, of serious neck injuries. Breathe in... and out. Now you're at a bridge that leads to happiness. Of course you can't cross the bridge because of the scary troll that lives underneath. So for now until you think of a way to get rid of the troll, you will only be able to stare at the bridge... but what's this? The magical (and real) Santa Clause has given you a bazooka. Now you can cross the bridge to happiness without worrying about the troll. You will only have the guilty conscience of knowing you killed the troll who never did anything to harm you. *tisk tisk tisk* Now don't you feel better after doing that meditation?
Humhumhum. You know that song "Friday" by Rebecca Black? I was listening to that song today and immediately my brain had a brilliant idea for a story. Do you want to hear it? Oh no I couldn't possibly. Well if you insist.
It was a dark and stormy night in the middle of October. The night seamed to howl the words, 'Carol! Where's my 2% milk?!' Turns out it was Mr. Wheedle yelling at his wife to bring him his 2% milk. It was quiet within the house. The girl stood at her window, gazing into the stormy clouds. Her mind fixated on that one question, no one could ever seem to answer for her. What are the handles for corn on the cob called? She always pondered this, but no one ever knew the answer. She thought about this for two more minutes before finally deciding to sit down and watch Jersey Shore.
As she watched, she began to think of other questions like, how come the cameras are already in the cabs before they ever get in? Why do Ronnie and Sam continue to say "things will be different. I won't be that person in Jersey. "? When in fact they are still that person from Jersey, still on a show called Jersey Shore. *Why are they still together? *(status of subject to change often)
Her thoughts were then interrupted by a knock at the door. She got up and opened it. It was the Pizza Hut delivery guy
"That'll be $15.67." He said.
The girl gave him the money, took the pizza, sat her tuccas down on the couch, and munched away on pepperoni pizza. After she got done she brushed her teeth, and went to bed.
The End.
That isn't really the story I think of when I hear the song "Friday". That's actually how my night went. When you order from Pizza Hut, make sure you say something along the lines of, "Yes, and I would also like extra pepperoni." If you don't then they will hand you a box filled with cheese pizza, and a light sprinkle of pepperoni! Seriously I hate that so much. When you ask for a type of pizza, they need to make it distinctively clear that it has the topping you want on it. But I digress.
The story I think of when I hear "Friday", goes something like this.
I knew my day was going to stink, when Bethany pushed me out of the 7th story window.
The End.
I don't want to sound mean but that's seriously what I thought of. I personally don't believe that singing is her call to life. It's probably something like being a peach vendor, or the actors who get to be real life people in remakes you find on discovery channel. But what do I know?
It has occurred to me that you may not remember who I am, or what hour you have me in. Well don't feel bad, I don't even have you as a teacher. A friend of mine told me to do this. Forced me actually. I won't name names, but it rhymes with Dayla Kice. *Cough switch the D and K cough!* If you want to continue reading, by all means, go ahead, who's stopping you? Maybe under the circumstances that mischievous Dayla Kice, is forcing you to stop reading this well written, master piece of an essay. But I'm not stalking you, so I don't know. What your about to read is my real story, about the song Friday.
It all went wrong that fateful day, when the protesters overthrew the government. They shouted out, "THE RENT IS TOO (beavers) DAMM HIGH!" Obama was last seen heading into a cave where it is rumored he will live for the duration of this apocalyptic state.
For forty days and forty nights, we went without government people yelling at us to pay outrageously high taxes. At first it seemed like heaven, but it quickly became Helsinki on earth. Literally. The devil unleashed his fiendish ghouls upon what used to be, the wonderful land of America, and became Sarah Palin's opponent for the 2012 election. The people gladly voted in Sarah Palin's favor. But the day of the inauguration she went "missing". The Russians were very happy about that, because now they could go about their business without having her staring at them from her house.
The Devil became President in her place. He imposed new laws like you must sign a contract with your soul if you want to shop for groceries. Nobody liked that law at all.
Everyone lived in fear of him. Until one day, a brave warrior from Canada came over. The brave warrior challenged the Devil to a rock paper scissors contest. The winner would get to choose where the loser ended up. The Devil readily accepted. They both shook hands and began their duel. Brave warrior from Canada got the first point, with the Devil coming from behind to tie the game. It was down to the last point. They both began the rock paper scissors chant, when all of a sudden a person from the peanut gallery, slingshot a pineapple instantly knocking out Devil.
The people then strapped him onto a rocket sending him into space. Forever. Never to return. As the rocket left the earth's atmosphere, the song "still alive" from portal could be heard playing in the background.
The End.
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