December 17, 2009
865 Mohawk Dr.
Insaneville, British Columbia
Canada NEW HAR
Santa Claus
Chief Toy maker
321 Candy Cane Lane
North Pole HOH OHO
Dear Santa:
It’s me again, how are all the reindeer doing? I know Comet enjoys red peppers instead of carrots; did he like the one’s I left out for him last year? I hope Rudolf didn’t steal them again. If you’re wondering how I have been doing have no fear as I have been doing well. I am not longer putting cockroaches in the cafeteria potatoes that the unsuspecting children buy every day. Trying to turn over a new leaf, I have also stopped spiking my hair so I don’t poke out anymore eyes.
This year for Christmas, I am not going to ask for a lot. Just a couple things have peeked my interest. First of all, as you know I am inspiring to become a world class chef, and all chefs need a fancy chef’s hat. The only thing is, I don’t want to blend in like every once else, so this year, could I please get a black and green poka-dotted chef’s hat? As well, since I just got my N a couple days ago, I was wondering if you could bring me a car. I want to drive to school and I can’t be seen in something dilapidated, so the car I am wishing for is a 2009 Dodge Challenger. If you have time, could you please make it green with two black racing stripes? Thanks!
Sincerely,
****** ******
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Dave Cooks The Turkey
What is funny? In the short story Dave Cooks The Turkey which was written by Stuart Mclean the content in the story is one of snickering laughter. Throughout the story Stuart demonstrates many situations that bring out child in the reader or listener by creating situations that we can relate too. The first situation was when Morley (Dave’s wife) joined a group of women that congregated together every second week to drink and make Christmas stuff. My mother and four-ten of her friends all get together every weekend to drink and scrapbook our lives away. The second situation that was easily apart of my holiday every year was when Morley started to complain to Dave about how much work she does throughout the year, defiantly around Christmas time. My mother start’s her “I do everything around here” speech every year around the start of November. The third and final thing that Stuart brings to his story Dace Cooks The Turkey, is when Dave thaws out the turkey and notices all the little flaws and names it. Every year it seems that my family is getting more and more insane and every year the name of the turkey that we eat gets crazier and crazier. Last year it was Fignagell and the thought of what the name of the turkey could be this year makes me shutter at how random and disturbing my family can get around the holidays.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Will He Come Back the Same?
There is a fine line between maturity and immaturity, as that line is in the eye of the beholder. For someone to become more mature there must be a significant happening in one’s life for them to turn over a new leaf. That happened to one of my best friends, Richard. For him to become the mature man he is today, both he and I can trace that instant click of maturity back to just one situation.
To this date, Richard and I have been best friends for about nine years now, I was quite young when I met him as he is older than me, but I still remember to this date how he used to be. During the time that we grew up together, he was a hooligan at all times. His ‘crazy’ button had been pushed in and seemed to be stuck just as a keyboard key will get stuck in and the letter h strides across your word document at 100mph while you frantically try to pull it out so that you can continue writing your essay before the end of class. Richard got his first motorcycle when he was 13, this started off his cycle of psychotic behavior in my opinion. Living with his grandparents and his two younger cousins, Richard didn’t have many rules in his house. Giving him the fuel to his fire to go out in the middle of the night and ride his dirt bike where ever he pleased, or to get in fights at school.
But the day of maturity did not show up for another couple years, to the point of I was concerned that he was too much like a wild stallion, rearing and bucking at rules and smashing through gates that held him in. It was not until he was 17 years old when I truly saw him change. It was afterschool, I had just gotten home and had sat down at my computer; I signed onto msn and of course Richard was online waiting for me. Double clicking his icon, a window popped up and I typed in ‘Hey, what’s up?’, and got a response of ‘…I need to talk to you about something serious…’ which confused me. Richard was never really the serious guy unless it was something really bad. But as my eyes scrolled over his typed up words, I shuttered at the thought of what might be going through his head.
You see, his grandparents were obviously retired and were getting money from the government to take care of themselves, as well as Richard and his two younger cousins. But it seemed that the government was cutting back on the money that his family was getting and it was already hard enough to live on what they were getting. The family was tight for money and it was hard for a 17 year old boy to get a job that could generate enough money to help support his family. Richard had decided to join the army. Richard had never been one for discipline, but he knew that he could join as he was over 16 and that he could get a significant amount of money to help support his family. At 17 years old, my best friend Richard joined the army, did his training and left to fight for his country. During his training time, I only got to see Richard at Christmas, but after he left to fight for his country, it was two years until I saw him again. He was 20 years old the next time I saw him, no longer did I see the almost puppyish mischief in his eyes, no longer did a boy stand in front of me, but a man.
For many kids, getting a job or their license would be the highlight of their teenage years, bringing them out the immature bubble that holds tight around a child’s body. But working at Wal-Mart or getting their license, was never a big deal for him, to bring him out to maturity, it took the hardest choice anyone could ever make in their life. Will they sacrifice their body, mind and soul for their country or not? Making that choice gave Richard a better outlook on life and brought the mature man I always knew he was out into the open.
To this date, Richard and I have been best friends for about nine years now, I was quite young when I met him as he is older than me, but I still remember to this date how he used to be. During the time that we grew up together, he was a hooligan at all times. His ‘crazy’ button had been pushed in and seemed to be stuck just as a keyboard key will get stuck in and the letter h strides across your word document at 100mph while you frantically try to pull it out so that you can continue writing your essay before the end of class. Richard got his first motorcycle when he was 13, this started off his cycle of psychotic behavior in my opinion. Living with his grandparents and his two younger cousins, Richard didn’t have many rules in his house. Giving him the fuel to his fire to go out in the middle of the night and ride his dirt bike where ever he pleased, or to get in fights at school.
But the day of maturity did not show up for another couple years, to the point of I was concerned that he was too much like a wild stallion, rearing and bucking at rules and smashing through gates that held him in. It was not until he was 17 years old when I truly saw him change. It was afterschool, I had just gotten home and had sat down at my computer; I signed onto msn and of course Richard was online waiting for me. Double clicking his icon, a window popped up and I typed in ‘Hey, what’s up?’, and got a response of ‘…I need to talk to you about something serious…’ which confused me. Richard was never really the serious guy unless it was something really bad. But as my eyes scrolled over his typed up words, I shuttered at the thought of what might be going through his head.
You see, his grandparents were obviously retired and were getting money from the government to take care of themselves, as well as Richard and his two younger cousins. But it seemed that the government was cutting back on the money that his family was getting and it was already hard enough to live on what they were getting. The family was tight for money and it was hard for a 17 year old boy to get a job that could generate enough money to help support his family. Richard had decided to join the army. Richard had never been one for discipline, but he knew that he could join as he was over 16 and that he could get a significant amount of money to help support his family. At 17 years old, my best friend Richard joined the army, did his training and left to fight for his country. During his training time, I only got to see Richard at Christmas, but after he left to fight for his country, it was two years until I saw him again. He was 20 years old the next time I saw him, no longer did I see the almost puppyish mischief in his eyes, no longer did a boy stand in front of me, but a man.
For many kids, getting a job or their license would be the highlight of their teenage years, bringing them out the immature bubble that holds tight around a child’s body. But working at Wal-Mart or getting their license, was never a big deal for him, to bring him out to maturity, it took the hardest choice anyone could ever make in their life. Will they sacrifice their body, mind and soul for their country or not? Making that choice gave Richard a better outlook on life and brought the mature man I always knew he was out into the open.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Profanity vs. Morals
For:
Why is it that people today seem to always have to use profanity as a way of describing someone, something or a mood? Is it not seen as normal if one does not use profanity to say something a more “complex” word could describe just as well, but they use profanity anyway because they are lazy? Growing up, many kids see it as “cool” or “fun” to swear in their sentences, as their parents do. To be able to get away with saying “crap” or “shit” gives the sense of adultness that many kids are trying to get as they move into their teenage years. Though morals have changed over time, as a young adult today would not have the same morals that their grandparents had when they were young adults, the fact that swearing has come more socially acceptable is a depressing though indeed. Because it is socially acceptable to speak such profanity when describing someone, something or a mood, the sense of morals that our grandparents upheld would be scoffed at in today’s society. Because parents are not reprimanding their children when profanity is said at too young of age, people just grin and bare it instead of telling their children that it is not acceptable to say words in such a way, when other words could easily be used to say what the person is feeling without having to swear.
Against:
It is not fair to say that the morals of society have changed in any way just because profanity is used more often and used by children younger and younger each year. Many parents have a strong household and rules to which their children have to abide by. Though there is no physical, mental or emotional ‘abuse’ to force this on the child, but it is how the child is raised. Depending on how the parent’s are raised, the child will most likely be brought up the same way. Many parents now of young teenagers had morals and rules in their household and have brought those forward, through the times to keep them alive in theirs. But parents that lack morals because their parents slacked on rules in the house will most likely slack as well, ending up with children that use profanity as loosely as their parents do. Though some people think that if they use profanity they are acting bigger and should be respected, but in real life they will not be accepted into society as well as other’s that use correct grammar and language that is not offensive. If one was to use profanity loosely while attempting to get a job, it is obvious that it would be difficult for them to get a job; as people 30 and over today would be greatly offended if while they were in line at Wal-Mart to pay for their merchandise, the cashier frequently used loose profanity to speak and hold a conversation.
Why is it that people today seem to always have to use profanity as a way of describing someone, something or a mood? Is it not seen as normal if one does not use profanity to say something a more “complex” word could describe just as well, but they use profanity anyway because they are lazy? Growing up, many kids see it as “cool” or “fun” to swear in their sentences, as their parents do. To be able to get away with saying “crap” or “shit” gives the sense of adultness that many kids are trying to get as they move into their teenage years. Though morals have changed over time, as a young adult today would not have the same morals that their grandparents had when they were young adults, the fact that swearing has come more socially acceptable is a depressing though indeed. Because it is socially acceptable to speak such profanity when describing someone, something or a mood, the sense of morals that our grandparents upheld would be scoffed at in today’s society. Because parents are not reprimanding their children when profanity is said at too young of age, people just grin and bare it instead of telling their children that it is not acceptable to say words in such a way, when other words could easily be used to say what the person is feeling without having to swear.
Against:
It is not fair to say that the morals of society have changed in any way just because profanity is used more often and used by children younger and younger each year. Many parents have a strong household and rules to which their children have to abide by. Though there is no physical, mental or emotional ‘abuse’ to force this on the child, but it is how the child is raised. Depending on how the parent’s are raised, the child will most likely be brought up the same way. Many parents now of young teenagers had morals and rules in their household and have brought those forward, through the times to keep them alive in theirs. But parents that lack morals because their parents slacked on rules in the house will most likely slack as well, ending up with children that use profanity as loosely as their parents do. Though some people think that if they use profanity they are acting bigger and should be respected, but in real life they will not be accepted into society as well as other’s that use correct grammar and language that is not offensive. If one was to use profanity loosely while attempting to get a job, it is obvious that it would be difficult for them to get a job; as people 30 and over today would be greatly offended if while they were in line at Wal-Mart to pay for their merchandise, the cashier frequently used loose profanity to speak and hold a conversation.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
What could I be?
What makes me special? How about this, I'll tell you what makes me special, if you can guess who I am. I'll give you a little time to think. Got it yet? How much more time do you need? How about now? Here, I'll make a deal with you, if you can guess who I am by all the things I am about to tell you, I will tell you all the awesome things I can do. But if you can't figure out who I am; I'll give you little hints here and there. And if you still can't figure it out; I'll tell you at the very end. How about that? Are we good? Good.
Being a simpleton is not my style, I can play DRR (Dance Dance Revelusion) on the extreme level and never miss a beat. Tattoo's are for babies, I swallow that ink and the picture appears wherever I want to it too: on my arms, legs, shoulders, neck, hands, feet, anywhere! People have told me that I am smarter than a computer, though I did loose to a computer a chess, it was never a match for me at kick-boxing. Squealing tires on my car like some N-owning, small minded child is too boring for me, no I just stare at my tires and they melt right off the rims! Spiders are no match for my cunning skills in rolled up newspaper vs. spider game.
I taught Batman all he knows and know Dallas Rowe's two true weaknesses! I bowl 305 and kicked the nose right off of Micheal Jackson's face just for him being a bit too weird. Leaping puddles in a single bound, I am often seen in my nerd hole, but when I am not saving the n00bs of this world from shear peral and embaressment, I am precheating to the world that Pepsi IS better than Coke. Though I would not call myself a hero, using only a rubber band and an oversized novelty foam finger, I once saved a small village in China from a hoard of vicious man eating mice.
With all that information, have you finally figured out who I am? Not yet?! I'm surprised, I thought that you were better than that! Woah, I think my IQ just dropped a point just by the fact that you don't know who I am! NO! Huston! We have a problem! Wait, hold on. I caught it, no need to worry. I got it, give me a second while I put it back into my brain. Wait. Okay, I got it back in, no need to panic! Okay, since you still havn't gotten it, I'll continue.
Let's see, I am an expert in converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, a n00b in math and a ruthless outlaw in Wales. I'm addicted to garlic bread; unknown in the art of eating sushi and worshiped by the way I can tell what kind of animals went into the hotdog I am eating. Dinosaurs aren’t a thing of the past, I have the last remaining one in my basement, and his name is Bob. Horizontal stripes make me look thinner while vertical stripes make me look wider.
Did you guess it yet? I gave you as many hints as I could without me having to kill you after saying the hint. Oh well, I guess I am just that kind of person, I have been known to become invisible and slip into places I’m not supposed too. Okay, well since you’ve been so nice and have read this whole essay, I guess I’ll tell you who I am. I am a grade 12 student at Princess Margaret Second School, and my name is Arlene Dunstan-Adams.
Being a simpleton is not my style, I can play DRR (Dance Dance Revelusion) on the extreme level and never miss a beat. Tattoo's are for babies, I swallow that ink and the picture appears wherever I want to it too: on my arms, legs, shoulders, neck, hands, feet, anywhere! People have told me that I am smarter than a computer, though I did loose to a computer a chess, it was never a match for me at kick-boxing. Squealing tires on my car like some N-owning, small minded child is too boring for me, no I just stare at my tires and they melt right off the rims! Spiders are no match for my cunning skills in rolled up newspaper vs. spider game.
I taught Batman all he knows and know Dallas Rowe's two true weaknesses! I bowl 305 and kicked the nose right off of Micheal Jackson's face just for him being a bit too weird. Leaping puddles in a single bound, I am often seen in my nerd hole, but when I am not saving the n00bs of this world from shear peral and embaressment, I am precheating to the world that Pepsi IS better than Coke. Though I would not call myself a hero, using only a rubber band and an oversized novelty foam finger, I once saved a small village in China from a hoard of vicious man eating mice.
With all that information, have you finally figured out who I am? Not yet?! I'm surprised, I thought that you were better than that! Woah, I think my IQ just dropped a point just by the fact that you don't know who I am! NO! Huston! We have a problem! Wait, hold on. I caught it, no need to worry. I got it, give me a second while I put it back into my brain. Wait. Okay, I got it back in, no need to panic! Okay, since you still havn't gotten it, I'll continue.
Let's see, I am an expert in converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, a n00b in math and a ruthless outlaw in Wales. I'm addicted to garlic bread; unknown in the art of eating sushi and worshiped by the way I can tell what kind of animals went into the hotdog I am eating. Dinosaurs aren’t a thing of the past, I have the last remaining one in my basement, and his name is Bob. Horizontal stripes make me look thinner while vertical stripes make me look wider.
Did you guess it yet? I gave you as many hints as I could without me having to kill you after saying the hint. Oh well, I guess I am just that kind of person, I have been known to become invisible and slip into places I’m not supposed too. Okay, well since you’ve been so nice and have read this whole essay, I guess I’ll tell you who I am. I am a grade 12 student at Princess Margaret Second School, and my name is Arlene Dunstan-Adams.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Uh Oh
The ringing bell sounds all around, crawling into my ear and vibrating my very soul. Step by step my feet bring me forward; closer and closer to my destination. The door. The room. My body quivers as I continue forward. I'm there. The door, just one more step, "Uh oh...” my voice stops abruptly, my breath is caught in my throat. He's there. A shadow looms over his face, his large frame blocking my way to my seat and to safety. The eyes of a predator must have been stolen, as those eyes could only be possessed by the coldest hearted beast. His top lip curled up in a snarl like an angry wolf's at a foe. The sagging of his chin hung over the untidy tie; in such a way that it looked like his face was melting wax. Head tilting upwards my eyes meet his, but my voice is no where to be found. Slowly....surely....I find it and speak up. "I-I'm sorry I'm late Mr. Whitely."
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Dropped like a hot potato
There he is, a chip off the old block, my good friend, as common as dirt, though it was as clear as mud that he needed my help. Not knowing his ass from his elbow, in broad daylight there he is, hanging off that damn cliff by his finger nails. Like I told him before, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but does he listen to me? No! It's like talking to a brick wall! Feet skimming the edge of the dirt cliff, I contemplate on if I'm even going to save him or not. But...I guess....blood is thicker than water. Though he did bite off more than he could chew, I told him that if he backed up anymore he would fall. It just cut the ground right out from under him when he fell, making me have to hold back a half a yelp and a half a laugh. But, I'm not one to have a cow, so I casually walked over, though it was against my nature and against the grain for me, I knelt down and crammed my neck over the end. "What's up?" I asked him, and he scoffed at me, wiggling his legs as if he had ants in his pants. Reaching down, I grabbed his hands that were as cold as ice, my eyes caught his face, it was as white as snow! "Hey!" I yelled, "Its a hell of a lot better than being poked in the eye with a sharp stick!" he again scoffed while I heaved his body, as heavy as an ox I figured from shear peril. Once back on common ground, he flung his arms around me and said "You're the best thing since sliced bread!" Laughing to myself, I just asked him, "Where you born in a barn or something!?" though I did not get a reply, I figured as much. Without words, we got up and returned to our home, safe and sound.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Power of the Wolf
Imagine looking up to the darkened sky, seeing a milky white orb splotched with grey, blue and black freckles of esoteric and mystery, then being able to change into the one animal that ruled the earth far longer than humans ever have, and will continue to rule long after humans are gone. The wolf. A fierce yet nurturing, noble yet sly, loyal yet true to one's self without the help of others. Being able to change from this fleshy and primitive form to the beautiful creature that is the wolf is the one power I want to possess more than the very blood that runs through my veins. Piercing blue, green, yellow, amber or even brown eyes; keen ears able to hear the smallest mouse's heart beat under five feet of snow, claws and fangs able to tear flesh from bone in seconds, whether it is enemy or prey. Why do humans so wish to fly? What is the point of being up in the air when they have no wings? Wolves have wings, though they are not in the shape of a bird or plane, they are in the shape of legs. Running is the flying for a wolf, being able to clear long distances in matter of seconds while the rush of energy and ferocity overcomes the senses. Coiling the large hind muscles, and launching forward into the very face of danger, knowing all well that the pack is behind to defend until the end. That is the power I wish to possess, to be able to change from primitive human to the one ruler of the land, the wolf.
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