March 26, 2008
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They look… like BIG, STRONG, HANDS…
I used to be in shape. No, seriously, I did. I was the guy on the field that never stopped running and the one that no one ever wanted to guard. I would just keep going ad-nauseum till the end of the game, regardless of the game. I would like to be that guy again. However, I played basketball yesterday, and it turns out, I’m no longer that guy. I’m the guy who plays really tough for the first half, then slowly walks my tired ass back to the other side of the court while I search for my lungs. Also, I’m the wuss who twists his ankle since he’s so deconditioned. Sweet. Man, all this typing, I worked up a sweat, gotta go get some gatorade to finish the blog.
Chapter 12:
After his brief, two hour lunch,
Walter tracked back to his house, and into his lair to see if any new news
about this underground auction had occurred.
Pay-dirt. Stale Dale, though told
strictly by his father not to write about this auction, had to tell Cyrus about how cool this auction was going to be. Cyrus, being intrigued as Walter had been,
asked nearly all the question Walter wanted answers to:Dale! Did your dad tell you what he wanted to
buy? I mean, I’ve seen some crazy shit
with my brothers both getting some of that dark-weed pollen or dark-scent or
whatever the hell that stuff was, but I’ve never even heard of those before.What are all the
passwords all about? I mean, is it
really that secret, or are they just yanking each other’s chain to make it
spooky. I knew some guys like Mark (oh,
I’m sorry, I mean Chantrell, what a prick) and Molly (oh I’m sorry, I mean
Sorceress Faun, the Wiccan weirdo) who were waaaaay too into Goth for their own
good, but this sound real. When is it
supposed to go on? Is there ANY way you
could convince your dad to let me go?Thanks,
Cy
After
a quick search, he found that Dale had already responded as Walter had
hoped.No, dumbass, there’s no way you can go. You’re not even suppose
to know about
it. Anyway, even to get in it is
sweet. Dad saidsome bakery on Lafayette
had the secret entrance to the tunnelunderground. On Lafayette of all places, can you believe
it!Apparently these people only sell
their crazy crap in the ghetto.The way
my dad describes it, it sounds very undercover and cloakand dagger
(sweet!). My dad told me not to tell
you, but theauction’s in two weeks. Dad
then went on and on about not tellinganyone or he would never take me to such
an event ever again (blahblah blah). He
said he wanted to buy a wind chime. Of
all theinsanely sweet items, he wanted to buy a shitty wind chime. I asked
him if it did anything special, to
which he said not by itself,whatever that means. He also said that it’s not a password to get
in, but there are traps, how cool is that?
It’s like Indiana Jonesunderneath the bakery of doom. I’ll talk to you later on IM.
-Dale
Walter
frowned at the end of this, he had not yet figured out how to hack into instant
messengers yet. But he did have enough
information to perhaps send a little note.
Well, not Walter, but Doodles sure did.
Comments (6)
I’m sorry to hear about your ankle. Having said that, you’re still a wuss!
ryc THANKS!
Wow, you left a deep interpretation of my post….
honestly most of it was about how I felt bout the previous post I made “whatäs the greatness of traffic” I felt like I was being flamed on my own site just for voicing my opinion. Litlte me against the TOP Xangans. creepy.
Also I love the way a text can get a life of it’s own and a meaning to a reader that the writer could not forsee.
Thing about Cassandram she was gifted and cursed at the same time. hmm, that sound really prententious… mmm
so that’s your orders now? That I be happy? LOL
I adore you!!!
You know what gets me winded? Pimpin! That’s how you want to twist your fcking ankle, is Big Old Fashion Pimpin. Fk basketball, which is for btches and doctors. I’m not going to ACTUAL cuss in my comments anymore because of 2 reasons: 1. that I might offend your readership, and 2. that I might be able to access your blog through the filter at work.
I sculpted you two ArtProps for this post out of Cranium clay. I’m having those shipped to xanga so they can upload them to your (our) account.
I think Walter is going to get the windchimes … and a blow dart in the fcking fat fcking throat! (If that’s not how you have it written, can you please edit that into the final copy? Thanks!)
I’ll summarize, with minis: I can’t use minis because I am not from XANGA; also, I don’t know what minis are. They seem small. Like miniature words.
I love you!
@Ross - You’re timing is beautiful and ironic. I suppose a thanks for not cussing is in order, so thank you, you Fking beautiful bstard. Tell you’re sister I’m sorry since I think she’s pissed at me after I left comments on her post. She had something jokingly about beating her kinds, j/k, hahaha. I kinda took it the the extreme with my response post and posted some horrible example of being really really REALLY mean to some kid. Unfortunately, the over-the-top sarcasm font was not installed so she was a tad upset. I re-read my comments, then deleted them since they really were a bit much… I’ll just enjoy the stew and try not to stir the pot so much.
In terms of our fat friend, yeah, I’ll see if I can edit that in. Though, there’s actually quite a pause until we see Walter again, so it will have to be in a while, however, before this story is done, I’ll do my darndest to get a blow dart in his throat.
Oh, and I just got the ArtProps in the mail. Xanga apparently is quite efficient with their delivery service. Seriously, the shipping alone must have been a fortune! The latticework on the interior dome of the to scale replica of the Taj Mahal, well, breathtaking sounds cliche but it really was inspiring.
Oh, and I love you too, man, but I am married.
Slicy,
Thank you for your concern and your deletion on my blog. It was unnecessary but appreciated all the same.
Do not fear that the sister is mad at you, as this could never be the case. Said sister has known you for much too long to be offended at anything you say. (Well… almost anything)
But now the sister is a “pastor’s” “wife” with a blog whose readership is mostly mothers that she doesn’t know. It makes her slightly fearful when Slicy comments about shooting children in the head and peeing on them. Will they think she does this too? I hope you see my point.
So please keep reading and commenting, as you are one funny dude. But if you want to make a funny about abusive acts to children, please just send that comment to my personal email (everyone happy, no one calling CPS)
With love,
Zoloft Mom
my name is walter