More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. It sucked. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! Fire is my frienduntil it burns me. Today's rant is a panic rant. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. Isn't vast a funny word? Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. Is anyone even reading this? Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. It's an outrage! Even though air is light, that much air adds up. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. Get the best cultural and educational resources on the web curated for you in a daily email. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! HEEEEY! Aren't I special? He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! (Believe me, though, you never want to see me driveI get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!kitties are hugablebut if you hug themthey'll scratch your eyes outso then you have to hiss at them and establish dominencebut kitties don't like thateven though dogs dobut kitties are obviously not dogseven though they are fuzzy.) Because eventually, I'll be back! He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. There is a world where you are a faerie. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Sentences can also be extended by recursively embedding clauses one into another, such as[2][3], This also highlights the difference between linguistic performance and linguistic competence, because the language can support more variation than can reasonably be created or recorded. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. UnfortunantlyI must leavebefore the confusion spreads and I do something stupidlike revealing my one weakness before youTHAT'S IT! Hmmmmtime for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. that was recognised in the 1983 Guinness Book of World Records was the longest ever written. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. MOOOO! Just like all those reports people have to do. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! I'm back. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. Oh, guess what? My sister. isnt paying attention. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. Fighting in the American Civil War? May your day be shiney! But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wingscause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. This has been bothering me for a while. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. we clapped. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion andstuff. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. ME: Yep. ", or "Wow, I never knew that!" It's not fair, ya know? I'm back. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. I hate Math. Faulkners intimacy is not earnestness, it is the uncanny feeling of a raw encounter with a nerve center lighting up with information, all of it seemingly critically important. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. Wellbetter go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! Yes. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? At least it's over. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. Now, those have possibilities. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. Because I have nothing else to do right now. And now, back to our featured presentation. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. But people buy name brands. Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. Pikachu! It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. Jesus Christ is my lord and savior.You guys probably think that that is the worlds longest sentence, but it's not,because I just keep on adding commas, and it's pretty easy, if you think about it, so anyway there is this girl at school and she's my friend, and all but she's turning . Just exactly like Father if Father had known as much about it the night before I went out there as he did the day after I came back thinking Mad impotent old man who realized at last that there must be some limit even to the capabilities of a demon for doing harm, who must have seen his situation as that of the show girl, the pony, who realizes that the principal tune she prances to comes not from horn and fiddle and drum but from a clock and calendar, must have seen himself as the old wornout cannon which realizes that it can deliver just one more fierce shot and crumble to dust in its own furious blast and recoil, who looked about upon the scene which was still within his scope and compass and saw son gone, vanished, more insuperable to him now than if the son were dead since now (if the son still lived) his name would be different and those to call him by it strangers and whatever dragons outcropping of Sutpen blood the son might sow on the body of whatever strange woman would therefore carry on the tradition, accomplish the hereditary evil and harm under another name and upon and among people who will never have heard the right one; daughter doomed to spinsterhood who had chosen spinsterhood already before there was anyone named Charles Bon since the aunt who came to succor her in bereavement and sorrow found neither but instead that calm absolutely impenetrable face between a homespun dress and sunbonnet seen before a closed door and again in a cloudy swirl of chickens while Jones was building the coffin and which she wore during the next year while the aunt lived there and the three women wove their own garments and raised their own food and cut the wood they cooked it with (excusing what help they had from Jones who lived with his granddaughter in the abandoned fishing camp with its collapsing roof and rotting porch against which the rusty scythe which Sutpen was to lend him, make him borrow to cut away the weeds from the door-and at last forced him to use though not to cut weeds, at least not vegetable weeds -would lean for two years) and wore still after the aunts indignation had swept her back to town to live on stolen garden truck and out o f anonymous baskets left on her front steps at night, the three of them, the two daughters negro and white and the aunt twelve miles away watching from her distance as the two daughters watched from theirs the old demon, the ancient varicose and despairing Faustus fling his final main now with the Creditors hand already on his shoulder, running his little country store now for his bread and meat, haggling tediously over nickels and dimes with rapacious and poverty-stricken whites and negroes, who at one time could have galloped for ten miles in any direction without crossing his own boundary, using out of his meagre stock the cheap ribbons and beads and the stale violently-colored candy with which even an old man can seduce a fifteen-year-old country girl, to ruin the granddaughter o f his partner, this Jones-this gangling malaria-ridden white man whom he had given permission fourteen years ago to squat in the abandoned fishing camp with the year-old grandchild-Jones, partner porter and clerk who at the demons command removed with his own hand (and maybe delivered too) from the showcase the candy beads and ribbons, measured the very cloth from which Judith (who had not been bereaved and did not mourn) helped the granddaughter to fashion a dress to walk past the lounging men in, the side-looking and the tongues, until her increasing belly taught her embarrassment-or perhaps fear;-Jones who before 61 had not even been allowed to approach the front of the house and who during the next four years got no nearer than the kitchen door and that only when he brought the game and fish and vegetables on which the seducer-to-bes wife and daughter (and Clytie too, the one remaining servant, negro, the one who would forbid him to pass the kitchen door with what he brought) depended on to keep life in them, but who now entered the house itself on the (quite frequent now) afternoons when the demon would suddenly curse the store empty of customers and lock the door and repair to the rear and in the same tone in which he used to address his orderly or even his house servants when he had them (and in which he doubtless ordered Jones to fetch from the showcase the ribbons and beads and candy) direct Jones to fetch the jug, the two of them (and Jones even sitting now who in the old days, the old dead Sunday afternoons of monotonous peace which they spent beneath the scuppernong arbor in the back yard, the demon lying in the hammock while Jones squatted against a post, rising from time to time to pour for the demon from the demijohn and the bucket of spring water which he had fetched from the spring more than a mile away then squatting again, chortling and chuckling and saying `Sho, Mister Tawm each time the demon paused)-the two of them drinking turn and turn about from the jug and the demon not lying down now nor even sitting but reaching after the third or second drink that old mans state of impotent and furious undefeat in which he would rise, swaying and plunging and shouting for his horse and pistols to ride single-handed into Washington and shoot Lincoln (a year or so too late here) and Sherman both, shouting, Kill them!