afealicious wrote:- Jen - Fenny says: im posting every single word you say, btw la dispute says: what la dispute says: *blow nose for the 29472834729843793274283th time*
let's make a quote pyramid for stupidity's sake.
dear jennington visiters: there are less inane posts than this one if you dont wanna waste your time. bye
i think you meant threads. but there has to be mindless activity SOMEWHERE on this board.
que?
hi brett! :D:D:D
!tterb ih
did you figure out the ending bit? it must have been too easy.
took a while, but yes!
yayyyy. reading all this makes me very very happy.
ha! my mom checked the mail that day. she must think we're all insane. or just me, cause she doesn't even know about here
HAHA! what was her reaction to D. Pinkman?
she went "Are you Brett D. Pinkman?" then handed me the letter. I think she knows better than to ask questions by now
your mom is the best.
she's pretty cool. I'm tiiiiired, gotta work tomorrow
i'm tiiiiiiiiiired, i have summer flu or something. got you beat.
woaaaaaaaaah so manyy quotteesss
how was dinner?
it was good, but i ate so quickly because i was worried you'd commit suicide.
i'm okay. just sick in multiple ways. *slit wrists* lolololo
phsaw dont say that.
... please?
this pyramid is getting kinda insane eh?
totally eh? let's go to 200!
JEN IS MY FAVOURITE JEN OUT OF ALL THE JENS IN THE WORLD, INCLUDING MYSELF
quite the little narcissist, are ye? *smotherhug*
"that was the last try." ":O...." "you're a mean idiot." "but!..." *blocks*
how cinematic. anyway, these folks look like they might be an amusing bunch. if only i could hear them.
afealicious wrote:- Jen - Fenny says: im posting every single word you say, btw la dispute says: what la dispute says: *blow nose for the 29472834729843793274283th time*
let's make a quote pyramid for stupidity's sake.
dear jennington visiters: there are less inane posts than this one if you dont wanna waste your time. bye
i think you meant threads. but there has to be mindless activity SOMEWHERE on this board.
que?
hi brett! :D:D:D
!tterb ih
did you figure out the ending bit? it must have been too easy.
took a while, but yes!
yayyyy. reading all this makes me very very happy.
ha! my mom checked the mail that day. she must think we're all insane. or just me, cause she doesn't even know about here
HAHA! what was her reaction to D. Pinkman?
she went "Are you Brett D. Pinkman?" then handed me the letter. I think she knows better than to ask questions by now
your mom is the best.
she's pretty cool. I'm tiiiiired, gotta work tomorrow
i'm tiiiiiiiiiired, i have summer flu or something. got you beat.
woaaaaaaaaah so manyy quotteesss
how was dinner?
it was good, but i ate so quickly because i was worried you'd commit suicide.
i'm okay. just sick in multiple ways. *slit wrists* lolololo
phsaw dont say that.
... please?
this pyramid is getting kinda insane eh?
totally eh? let's go to 200!
JEN IS MY FAVOURITE JEN OUT OF ALL THE JENS IN THE WORLD, INCLUDING MYSELF
quite the little narcissist, are ye? *smotherhug*
"that was the last try." ":O...." "you're a mean idiot." "but!..." *blocks*
how cinematic. anyway, these folks look like they might be an amusing bunch. if only i could hear them.
i read a lot of Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. i'm engrossing myself in cute adventure tales. next i'm going to reread William Goldman's The Princess Bride! one of my favourite books ever.
my story is about a boy who makes money for his family by collecting seaweed underwater and selling it. plus he makes a mean seaweed soup and has a soup stand. like a lemonade stand, but better. on weekends he gives his poor neighbours free seaweed soup garnished with waxed gouda cheese. during his spare time, he weaves scarves out of carrot shreddings.
afealicious wrote:so terrified was Grassboy (i almost typed Grassbody, hahaha) that he RRRRAN back into his house, accidentally trampling a lot of his treasured grass in his way. when he was safe inside his house again, he drank a glass of warm homo milk to calm himself down, and looked out the window, panting hard. (no, i don't know where his parents have been all this time, or why they haven't listened to the neighbours' complaints about their unsightly backyard, or why they let their son do this for months and months and months and months, or why they aren't around to comfort their son who has been scared half to death by eyes lurking in their backyard, or why the hell they have homo milk in their house and they let their nineteen-year-old son drink it to calm himself down) he couldn't see the eyes anymore. what he saw was the trail of grass he had trampled without thinking. his eyes welled with tears and he felt a part of his soul die. really.
so Grassboy quickly morphed into Emo-Grassboy and left the house that night. it was quiet, dark, warm, and sultry. he sulked down the street, hands in his pockets, in which he always kept pinches of grass seed. he took them out and scattered them along his path, and they fell, tinkling in the night like the hot tears dripping down his face and releasing his inner pain and suffering...
exactly! we were even saying that on particularly bad monday mornings, our potato stand would have raw potatoes out so that passersby could come and smash them and relieve their stress. we planned to make the world a better place that way.
:D:D:D
did you figure out the ending bit? it must have been too easy.
she's pretty cool. I'm tiiiiired, gotta work tomorrow
*smotherhug*
