Variations of a Frightful Night

     This is a play which I have written by pulling material from our in-class assignment to write about a man getting mugged and crossing it with the idea of the renowned play Variations on the Death of Trotsky. It consists of a single event told in various ways depending on who the person being addressed is until finally we are shown the truth when he is reporting the incident to the Po-o. This piece was rather fun to write and i hope it's fun to read.

Scene I

Late summer night breaching on a twilight hour in downtown San Luis Obispo on the corner of a street outside a movie theater which list of movie advertisement had flickering letters and the metal gates drawn closed over the ticket booths. The theater is perched on the corner with an entrance to a parking garage on either side of it and the last dwindling lights inside are falling asleep with the town. The only comfort in the darkening abyss came from the street lamps above. The center one was brighter than the others and acts as an overhead spotlight for the center stage.

A young gentleman's voice is heard through the still and empty set  begins the play by addressing a women with a more middle aged voice. 

JOHN: Mom! Mom! Mom! 

MOTHER: What John?

Enter from stage right: A college student in his early twenties walks out from the side door of the theater and crosses through the light on the right side of the stage in front of a dark alley.

JOHN: I was walking out of the movie theater and this guy came out of no where. 

Enter a scraggly man in his mid thirties from the dark alley next to the movie theater exit wearing a black hood and a pair of dark navy Levi’s holding a knife.

JOHN: He took my money and threw me to the ground. He had a knife and everything.

Man approaches the student in the darkness between the lights and confronts him under the center spotlight and demands money before violently shoving the student to the ground and running off into the night.

MOTHER: Oh my gosh! Are you okay?!

JOHN: I’m fine. I just didn’t know what to do.

Stage lights fade out and actors reset under the darkness.

Scene II

Same exact setting as the beginning only this time the man is addressing another male who sounds like he is around the same age.

JOHN: Bro!

MAN: What’s wrong John?

Enter John from stage right again passing through the same street light in front of the alley.

JOHN: I was coming out of the theater when this 6’8” guy wearing a leather jacket pulled a gun on me.

Enter the same mugger though this time he is wearing a black leather jacket and wielding a 9mm.

MAN: WTF?! Broski are you alright?!

JOHN: Yea dog, he tried to take my money but I managed to knock the gun out of his hand with a round-house kick.

John performs a maneuver and disarms the thug attempting to get the jump on him.

MAN: No way! Did you beat his a$$? 

The attempting mugger shoulder checked John and ran off into the street.

JOHN: He got lucky and dropped me on the curb before I had a chance.

Stage fades again and the actors reset themselves.

Scene III

Same setting but the man is addressing a girl this time.

JOHN: Sorry it took me so long to return your call Dian.

GIRL: Thats okay. I’m just glad you did.

JOHN: You’ll never believe what happened to me tonight.

Enter John in the same manor.

GIRL: What?

John makes his way through the light in front of the alley once more.

JOHN: This guy jumped me as I was leaving the theater. He asked for my money,

The attempting criminal engages John once more.

JOHN: I tried to talk to him, calm him down you know?

John talks to the man using hand gestures to help him calm down and understand that he didn’t have to do this.

GIRL: OMG! Baby, are you okay?!

JOHN: He just had this look in his eye like he was desperate or something. I gave him the money and he grabbed it so quickly that I stumbled and fell and before I knew it, he was gone.

John handed the man some money who eagerly took it. As John tripped over himself, the would’ve been mugger disappeared into the night.

GIRL: OMG! You are so brave! If you need anything Babe just let me know.

Stage fades away again and the actors return to their starting positions.

Scene IV

Same setting as in scene I but now John is explaining the situation to a male police officer with a reassuring voice.

Enter John in his same style.

JOHN: I had just walked out of the theater down town, when this man wearing a black hoody and some jeans approached me.

Enter the mugger once more.

POLICE OFFICER: Okay could you describe him in further detail so our sketch artist could get an accurate picture?

JOHN: He was maybe 5’10”, caucasian, reeked of alcohol, and he carried a pocket knife.

POLICE OFFICER: Okay then what happened?

The mugger extended the knife in Johns direction, swaying as he did so. He demanded money and John emptied his pockets showing that he had none to give. The mugger the shoved him to the ground in disbelief and staggered off into the alley down the street.

JOHN: He demanded money and when I explained that I didn’t have any, he shoved me down into the street and took off into some alley farther up.

Stage fades to black one last time.

I Am More

              This is a poem which was inspired by children and their imagination to create something extraordinary out of something ordinary. I also hoped to send a subliminal message that life is what you make of it and that no matter how bland, bleak, or plain something may seem; there is always something much greater that can come of it.I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it.

List Of Lists

This is a piece that we did as an in-class activity that I took and tried to expand upon. It was inspired by a website that used various lists, phrases, objects, etc and to make a list of a list. I found this activity pretty enjoyable and creative and I hope you enjoy reading mine as well.

1. Names given while placing a Starbucks order:

• Sponge Bob
• Timone and Pumba (with a partner)
• Lord Voldemort
• Daddy Warbucks
• Batman
• Sweet Baby Jesus
• Nobody???

1. Things I plan on doing but never get around to:

• Getting my motorcycle license
• Studying for the SAT
• Washing my car
• Hitting the gym
• Homework
• Cleaning my room
• Doing Laundry

1. Things that worry me:

• My brother’s homemade fireworks
• When she doesn’t respond to a bad joke
• Getting a test back
• Driving through Richmond
• Walking into a cobweb and not seeing the spider
• When you get that awkward stare from someone you don’t even know.

1. Signs that it’s over:

• When she turns her read receipts off
• When she kisses someone else
• When she goes on vacation without telling you
• When she changes her name, hair color, and address
• When she stops laughing at your corny jokes
• When her status changes to single and ready to mingle
• When all your photos have her dogs head on your body

1. Things on my bucket list:

• Sky diving
• Wing suit skiing
• High speed chase
• Getting a Motorcycle
• Storming a field
• Due ragazze in una notte
• Married with two kids and a dog

Six Word Memoir

 

                This is a six word memoir about my life. This was inspired by an idea that we were shown in class and I took it and wrote about something that relates to my favorite passion ever, soccer, as well as to everyday life. I attempted to make it sound deep and inspiring to those who get knocked down on a daily basis as I once did.

Dust Off, Stand Up, Go Again.

My Name

            This is a piece that we were encouraged to write by our teacher. She had us look up the meaning of our names and reflect on how much they compare to our actual personalities. I found this exercise to be strangely ironic and kind of entertaining. I hope you will be entertained as well.

            If you look up Jason Paul you’ll find that my first means Healer and my middle name means Noble, so I guess you could say that I’m supposed to be a noble healer. This couldn’t be further from the truth. First off I can’t stand the sight of blood and every time I see a needle chills race down my spine. I literally have to leave the room whenever someone’s being opened up in a T.V. show.

            I wasn’t even supposed to be a Jason Paul; I was supposed to be a Jaclyn. This was much more fitting as it means honest, benevolent, brilliant and often inventive, full of high inspirations, courageous, determined, original and creative. It means that I’m a born leader. These descriptions hold true to almost all aspects of my life. I have been made captain every year that I have played club soccer as well as a season of both high school soccer and volleyball. While I’m not so sure how honest I am (I guess I’m being honest when I say that), I do maintain good grades, I’m fairly creative and inventive, and I can be courageous depending on the circumstances surrounding the situation. I guess this is just God’s way of showing that I truly am a Jaclyn at heart.

Memoir

      This is a piece in rememberance of a night that I had enjoyed greatly. We were asked to write a memoir about several events that were inspired by six different promts. I chose to share this one with you and I hope you enjoy it.

      My favorite meal and one of my fondest memories is when my old girl friend, Sierra, had come

over for dinner. My parents had gone out of town and my brother was spending the night at a friends

 house so we were all alone with the house to ourselves. I had spent well over an hour making some

fancy-smanshy dinner yet I can’t even remember what it was that I had made. As we sat there at the

table enjoying the warm summer breeze and looking out across the backyard we continued what I

could only describe as a conversation yet it was so much more than that. We were fully engaged in

one another, even when we would cease talking we would continue the communication silently. We

spoke through our body with the simplest of gestures, a touch of our hands the light flicking of her

feet agains mine and our eyes emphasized the scene. Her brilliant sea green eyes glowed like the

stars’ twinkle above our heads, never losing contact with my own. Hours must have gone by as we

sat there talking about what I wouldn’t have even classified as small talk yet we both valued like it

was some divine wisdom whispered to us by an angel. When it was time for her to go we cleared our

untouched plates and I drove her home. As I was walking her to her front step she stopped not

halfway there, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. As she withdrew our eyes met again and we

leaned into one other. This time her lips landed on mine and we embraced in the magical climax of

the night. Then her dad turned on the sprinklers. I took the hint grinning and walked her to the door

making sure to use my coat to stop the water from soaking her dress.

The Two Stood Face To Face..... And Then There Was One.

          This is a piece that was inspired by a scenario that we have all heard of if not played a role in in some way, shape, or form. I hope that this story line never falls upon someones experience and that after reading this one may even choose to create a better ending to the story if they should ever find themselves in a similar predicament. This was given to us as an assignment and I was to begin and end my story with a given intro and concluding phrase and I attempted to base mine off of a plot that most wouldn't think of at first. 

         The two stood face to face, surrounded by vociferous music that’s only competitor was the uproarious crowd, both of 

whom were in their own world oblivious to the ruckus transpiring around them. The two stood there gazing into one 

another’s eyes, wondering who would make he first move and even doubting whether or not one of them would even 

make it.

            They remained motionless like two statues in centered in a bustling square. The girl was all too familiar with her 

surroundings and the boy was obviously anything but; a novice to the predicament which he managed to spur himself 

deeper into. Finally, after much self preparation and encouragement, the boy boldly made the first motion, leaning deeply 

into the girl. She eagerly met him halfway and the two of them embraced in a long awaited kiss. But it was yet to be the 

climax of their night.

            The boy was immediately confronted by a sense of passion and fulfillment as it was the first time he had been 

graced by the touch of a woman’s lips upon his own. Excited, he withdrew his arms from around her figure and traded 

only to grasp her hand and lead her away from the prying eyes which had frozen in their tracks. As they witnessed the 

fireworks fly around the room originating from the spark between the two romantics.

              Hoping beyond hope to act like a master thief he attempted another heist to capture yet a second kiss. The girl, 

feeling less enthusiastic than she had anticipated, was becoming embarrassed by attaching herself to someone viewed 

as lesser than herself on the social food chain that is always disclaimed yet always finds its way into existence. Scared 

that her status and reputation would be jeopardized, she began to pull away from the boy. Confused, the boy asked what 

he had done wrong.  “It’s not you, it’s me.” The infamous phrase that scars too many and leaving only a few to make it 

through life without being torn apart by the words. “I’m just having second thoughts that’s all.” she stammered.

         In a last ditch effort to shroud his conflicting rage, disbelief, and depression that stormed across the sea that is our 

emotion, he choked out a reply “I understand.” but it was beyond too late for the girl had already turned and left to search 

for a more suitable companion leaving the boy alone and dumfounded by the sudden turn of events, so he sat there in 

the hallway and crawled deep with himself. And then there was one.

Room Description

                This is a descriptive piece that I attempted to create which would provide you with a clear visual of my room as seen when you walk into it. I hope it will suffice as my teacher asked for a piece of descriptive writing. However I have altered some details because I was uncomfortable with posting an exact replica of my room.

                You walk into the doorway and turn to flip on the light switch on the wall to your right. Above this is a 10”x12” picture of a car parked on a beach with surfboards strapped to its roof. You step into the room and are greeted by a 55 gallon aquarium within which swims a 14” shark. This tank rests on top of an old dresser made out of walnut that has six drawers (two columns of three) and above the tank is a shelf decorated by 22 trophies and several dozen medals. On either side of the shelf is a picture drawn by me, one of an eagle and one of a wolf both of which were drawn in a sort of tribal design. On the wall opposite the door and the closet is a desk, offset to the left slightly so it would be directly across from the door. This is cluttered with college brochures and SAT prep booklets. In the corner of the room between my desk and my dresser is a bulletin board which has photos and two boutonnieres from proms hanging from it. Under this are a half dozen pairs of shoes/ flip flops for various occasions. On the wall adjacent to that which the bulletin board hangs, two more shelves hang. These are filled with souvenirs from past vacations and on the other side of my desk hang an identical pair of shelves. Upon these rest childhood nick-knacks and family photos. Between these two sets of shelves and behind my desk are two large twin windows that look into my backyard. On the next wall, if you were to continue to turn in a clockwise motion, is a queen sized bed whose head board rests under a massive poster which is displayed in a tapestry sort of style. This poster is of another beach which remains empty aside from a surfboard rack. To the left of the bed is a night stand with a lamp, a clock, and two books sitting upon it. Finally in the last wall is my closet which usually has the beach themed curtains drawn closed but above the closet are two more drawings from my early elementary school years. These are of a parrot and a lighthouse and between these hang an ancient gold and jade knife that I brought back from Turkey.

Single Syllable Story

                This was a story written with only one syllable words so it is a little simplistic, please try to bear with it. We had to cheat in some parts and break words apart that would still have the story make sense. Me and Crutan tried to write about a topic that most of us can relate to.

 

                The note came in the mail. It was a thick note filled with lots of stuff. Paul’s name was at the top of the note. As he ripped it up and took out the stuff. His face lit up in glee. He had got in the school of CAL. He screamed “MOOOM!”

                “What Paul?” she asked.

                “I got in!”

                “What?” she was still dazed.

                “Cal Mom! I got in!” he said.

                “Oh my gosh! What did it say?”

                He read the note to her “We are glad to let you know that you have made it in to our school, CAL, and that we can’t wait to see you this fall.” His mom could not find the words to speak, so Paul called his best friend Rick and told him what he just got in the mail. Rick was glad for him and told him so. He also said that he would come by that day to help him find a house or dorm to live in. Then he hung up.

                Paul, still filled with glee, read the note one more time, but this time he caught that there was some thing wrong. The name at the top of the note was not Paul’s; the note was to Pam next door.

A Stange Day in July

               This is a story written in response to a photograph of two children skipping rocks by a lake. It had a caption that is reused in my first line which I expanded on in order to complete an assignment that required me to write a "creepy" story. I feel like I have successfully done this and hope I won't give you nightmares.

 

             He threw with all his might but the third stone came skipping back. He stood there, staring at the rock that just landed between his feet. Dumfounded was the only word that could have described him at that moment. Raising his head, he locked eyes with his sister and was met with a mirrored look of confusion and fright. Like the curious cat, he picked up another rock and skipped it across the foggy water and into the darkening depths only to have it sent back to him. His sister, eagerly wanted to leave, tugging at his arm, “I’m scared Jonathan.”

               “It will be fine Juliette,” he comforted her, “Watch.” And he reached for a rather robust rock that lay in the sand not 20 feet away.

                “Don’t!” exclaimed Juliette.

                “Trust me. There’s no way this one’s coming back.” And he hurled it into the water. “See, nothing!”

                A pale light began to illuminate the water near where the rock had submerged. “I told you!” Juliette screamed as she began to run up the sand bank away from the water, leaving Jonathan standing there like a deer in the headlights. She looked back in time to see what seemed like a mountain shooting out of the water. The night went pitch black as the boulder shrouded the moon. In the darkness she stumbled and fell. When she picked herself up she gazed hopelessly at what must have been a two ton rock resting on the bank where she thought her brother had stood, and where she now knew he laid.

Ending Paragraph

 In this paragraph I, attempted to finish a story that my professor had read aloud. It was intended to maintain a heartened plot while still portraying a real life reaction to his predicament. I tried to put myself in his shoes and figure out exactly how I would react to someone that had been in contact with me for the past eight months.

            As he locked eyes with Helen, a mutual understanding spread across each of their faces. They had grown close to one another through their letters, and would remain that way. Closer than friends. Their bond was that of a favorite aunt and a nephew, but nothing more. As she gave her silent blessing, he turned away and chased after the girl.

The Truth About Hansel and Gretel

             This is a tale that tells an alternate side to the famouse story of Hansel and Gretel. This story was inspired by some folk tales that have been told from another point of view such as The Frog Prince and The Big Bad Wolf. I attempted to write this story from the perspective of the witch and how she was "innocent" of her actions.

            Once upon a time, in a mysterious forest filled with countless little critters and other small animals, there lived a quiet old woman who loved to bake. One day the woman decided to make a whole house out of gingerbread and cakes, with window panes of clear sugar. This provided the old woman with much enjoyment and she grew to love her house to the point where she began living there in the quiet woods beyond the village. Unfortunately though, this old woman was diabetic and could not enjoy her wondrous pastries and sweets and as time moved on she soon lost her sight as well, becoming blind to the world around her.

            One day however, she herd a soft scratching almost nibbling sound coming from her rooftop. To her astonishment, there were two children eating her precious house. Infuriated by the wrong doing that has befallen her, she brought the kids into her home where she questioned them about where they were from.

            "We come from the Village." said Gretel.

            "Our father left us in the woods." stated Hansel.

            Pitying the children, the old hag allowed Gretel to stay with her inside the house, however Hansel would have to sleep outside because there wasn't enough room for him inside so he slept in the old habitat that she had set up for her previous guest. Unfortunately the two siblings were impatient and could not wait for the old hag to make them food so they began to gorge themselves on the surrounding houses once again.

            Upset that they were once again devouring her beloved home, the old witch locked Hansel in his outdoor courters and began having Gretel clean up the mess they had made.

            After several hours the witch began to feel sorry for them, partly for how she handled things and partly because they were so unhealthily thin, so she decided to bake some treats for Hansel and Gretel. When she was thrilled by their feed back of how delicious her baking was, she was easily encouraged to make more for them. After all she does love to bake. But as time went by she began to worry that she was over-feeding the two children so she continued to check Hansel's thickness by feeling his finger because she could not see due to her blindness. Unknowing that those pesky kids were playing a trick on her by offering her a bone that Hansel had found, she thought that over the course of a few weeks that he had gained virtually no weight.

            In one final attempt to "Put some meat on his bones.", as the old woman had phrased it to the two children, she decided to bake one ginormous pie the size of a grown boy. However if she was to do this she was going to need Gretel's help with the oven. When she had finally gotten the oven going and was ready to put the pie in, she had asked Gretel to check the oven to make sure it was warm enough. Thinking that she would play one last joke on the kind old hag, Gretel acted like she had no idea what was being asked of her so the woman attempted to explain to her how to check the temperature of the oven by leaning over the opening. But wouldn't you know it, Gretel decided she had  the opportunity seise the wondrous house all for themselves ,so she took it. She pushed the kind old woman, who had played host to them, into the massive oven and watched as she baked into her own pie. Even after her cruel murder the two kids continued to disrespect her not only by eating the majority of her prized house, but also by steeling her life savings of precious jewels and gems and taking them home to their father. This is the true story of Hansel and Gretel.

The End.

An African Adventure

           This is a short story that I have written for the coolest kid I know. Mark is a kind and caring second grader who unselfishly assists others whenever he is able to help. I hoped to capture his interests, tallents, and dreams in a piece that portrayed him as the hero he is destined to be.

 

 

           One beautiful, spring day at Moorwud Elementary School, Mark was sitting in his second grade class after finishing his math test. Mark always finished fairly early and often spent his extra time gazing out the window watching the warm breeze brush across the tree tops. His teacher, Miss Egan, had just finished their lesson and was about to move on to science when suddenly a tall man wearing a white coat burst into the room.

            "You will have to excuse my interruption of your class Miss Egan, " said the man apologetically, "but I need to speak with Mark about an urgent matter." He turned to Mark.

            "Me?" Mark looked intrigued by this turn of events.

            "Yes, there are some people in Africa that desperately need your assistance." explained the man.

            Miss Egan, a little flustered by all of this, decided to call Mark's mother to let her know what was going on. She explained the situation over the phone and his mother told her that the man was a friend of hers and that he knew what he was doing.

            Looking to hear what his mother had said, Mark asked his teacher, "Did she say I could go?" He was becoming more and more excited.

            "Yes," she replied. "But you have to stop by home to pack your things and say good bye to your mother and sister."

            Mark said good bye to his friends and turned to Pranave, "I will be back soon," he promised.

            "Have fun,"  replied Pranave. "And be careful!"

            "I will," assured Mark. Then he and the man, whose name turned out to be Doctor Wizzle, hurried home to pack and catch a flight to Africa.

            Once at home, Mark hurriedly packed his favorite green suitcase making sure to take his favorite blue T-shirt and his Woody and Buzz action figures. Once he finished packing, Mark said goodbye to his mother and sister, Yareny, giving them both big hugs before he departed with Doctor Wizzle.

            It was a long plane ride over to Africa and Doctor Wizzle snored throughout the whole flight but Mark didn't mind too much as he played with Woody and Buzz for the majority of the flight.

            Once in Africa, Mark was amazed to see all of the wondrous animals that lived there. There were all incredible, from the massive elephants to the prowling lions, and from the lanky giraffes to the bounding rhinos: they were exquisite. However, the people of Africa needed him and he did not have the time to simply admire the marvelous creatures.

            When he and Doctor Wizzle finally reached the people that desperately needed their help, Mark was astounded to see what had happened to all the men, women, and children. They were covered in bright purple spots and their tongues had turned to a shade of greenish yellow. Mark and Doctor Wizzle immediately set to work finding a cure for these people.

            A few days passed without any success of finding a treatment for the curious disease that continued to spread.

            "I don't know what else to do," stated Doctor Wizzle, who only had trace amounts of hope left.

            "There's one more thing we can try," replied Mark with one final trick up his sleeve. He remembered his mom's minestrone soup. He made his mother's recipe, the one that always made him feel better whenever he was sick. Giving a large bowl to a patient, Mark began to see the spots disappear before his own eyes as the man was rapidly cured of his disease.

            "You've done it!" exclaimed Doctor Wizzle. "You've cured him!"

            "Quick," Mark said, "make as much minestrone soup as you can."

            The two of them began making as much soup as fast as they possibly could. Within hours of their success, the entire population had been cured of the mysterious illness and began to praise Mark for his ingenious idea and delicious soup. As a token of their gratitude, they gave Mark a new puppy, a poodle, that he could play with whenever he wanted. Thanking the people of Africa and saying their final goodbyes, Mark and Doctor Wizzle began their journey home.

            Once back, Mark rushed into his house and gave his sister and mother a huge hug, the biggest one he had ever given them, and told them all about his amazing journey and how he had cured the people of Africa from the purple polkadot and yellow tongue disease and how the people had given him a new puppy.

            Doctor Wizzle was so amazed by his actions that he had made him an Honorary Doctor. "You've raised a true hero," He told Mark's mother. His family couldn't have been more proud of him.

 

 

            The End.

Stuck in a Web

           This is a piece that I used to experiment with writing in the first person. It is the story of what a fly would go through as it struggled to survive the brutal abuse of an average family. I enjoyed writing this piece and hope you enjoy reading it.   

            Sigh.... Well this sucks.

            (One hour before) "Buzz buzz buzz......." SWAATTT! I spiral off from the blow, crashing into the window. I pick myself up and try to fly away but my good wing has a nice little kink in it now. Why must they always try to hit me? What did I ever do to them? I mean I'm sitting here minding my own business, just cruising around, and they decide that they want to hit me? And with a magazine of all things?! Seems like the humane thing to do. Where do they even get off having their own word that means something so peaceful, yet the creature itself is so violent anyway? Whatever, my wings feeling better now, I'll try and fly to another room.

            I circled around the living room for a few minutes (okay maybe it was like half an hour) before I was able to find my way out. Their dang windows are just way too clean, how much windex do you have to put on them anyway? Finally I was able to find the opening that lead to the hallway. I sped for it thinking I was in the clear, then out of nowhere this massive..... thing.... just swoops in all of a sudden and attacks me. It was strange looking but in a scary way, like its legs were ten times as long as its body and its wings were massive. It scared the living s@#t out of me. If it wasn't for that mosquito that he decided to go after, I would've been a goner for sure. I finally made it out of the room.

            I just kept going, all the way till the end of the hallway when I saw this amazing, ice-blue light seeming to illuminate my whole world. It was coming from the room at my immediate right. I went to investigate. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, I found myself just involuntarily drawn to the peculiar light and before I knew it, I was five feet away from the brilliant lamp. I looked over and saw a moth beelining it to the light, but when he landed, he lit up like the light and their was this high pitched hissing sound followed by the moths rapid decent to the floor below. He didn't pull up and just crashed.

It took all my will power but I managed to pull myself away from the pretty blue light and fly back down the hallway to another room.

            There I just chilled on the wall, enjoying the peaceful tranquility of rest. I remained their for a good 20 minutes enjoying the safety of the smooth wall. A young girl was in her room doing home work and listening to her music. I thought I'd go and be friendly so I began my decent to her. This was my final mistake. She immediately began to shoo me away and swing her book at me like some homicidal maniac. Trying to avoid another deadly conflict, I tried to fly back to the wall as quick as I could, but the crazy lunatic actually got up and chased after me. I felt a sharp pain in my rump like the whole world just slammed into me. Again I found myself spiraling away, only this time there wasn't a hard window to crash into it was something a whole lot softer and a whole lot worse. I found myself stuck in the most intricately woven web imaginable. It made Charlotte's web seem like the work of an amateur's work. To make matters worse, not two inches away was the artist of this tapestry. A big 'ol momma that looked hungry, and as she descended towards me (or I might as well call myself dinner at this point) I thought to myself, "Well this sucks."

Women

        This is a simple hiku about women or more specifically gold diggers. This poem is intended to be jocular and a simple reflection on the stereotype of how men view women. I do not mean offense, so if you are a woman please understand that this is not targetted at you personally.

They're sweet soft and kind.

But if you are not careful,

They will rob you blind.