Monday, May 17. 2010

Maybe I might actually post my story today.


Maybe.


I iz working on my Paramore slide show. ^_^ RAWR.


===   ] <--IZ CUTE!!


This is a stick man. O-|--<


:] Yay

OHEMGEE I finished my story!!!!!!!!!!!

Once upon a time, there was a llama named Jimall. He was the only llama who didn’t spit at people, so he was an outcast. Jimall thought that spitting at people was rude. T he Elders of the llama village, Pilla, decreed that he would be sentenced to seven months of exile. If he discovered that spitting was fun in that time, he could come back. “I still don’t want to spit at people, it’s rude.” He said when seven months was done with. Then, the elders said that he should go into the forest for seven years (The Elders like sevens). They said to come back when that was over. So, during that time, he decided to run away. “No one likes me, anyways.” So he did. He trekked through mountains, rivers, and valleys, marched through forests, lakes, and desserts. Finally, he came to the vast ocean, Lawliett. “How shall I make it across?” He wondered aloud. “Aye, I shall help ye across the Lawliett. She is a temperamental one. Hard to traverse.” Said an old man in a yellow, ratty raincoat. He had a peg leg and bad teeth, and an unlit cigar hung from his mouth. “I be Jacks, the only man to ever survive the wrath of the Lawliett. Many hath come to me begging to be apprenticed. All are young and foolish.” He spits at the ground. “Well, I don’t want to be a bother. I was just running away.” Jimall scuffed his feet on the ground. “Well, I don’t want to be a bother…” He mumbled. “Aye, tis nothing.” Jacks thumped him on the back. “So. Where to?” “Uh… Anywhere. I don’t like to spit at people, so I was shunned by my village, Pilla. And so I figured I might as well leave.” Jimall looked down at the ground. “I think I know where to go.” Jacks winked. The journey took seven months and seven days. (See? It’s still sevens.) When they arrived at the destination, Jimall was awed. The city was huge. Pilla was a small village, barely above the population of fifty. This city, this metropolis, must be at lease twenty times that. It frightened Jimall. But it also inspired him. “Here ye are, young one.” The boat driver walked away before Jimall had a chance to answer.




So this is how our story ends. Jimall never heard of Pilla again, but they heard a great deal about him. He led a group of peace makers, named Sith. But that is another story, and shall be told a different time.

I know, that sucked. Oh welll.
 
Lalala... Surprisingly, Hope has not stole my computer. Hm...
 
I HOPE that doesn't jinx it. dkthfuy,tui.ltioy6qadymjbjm567i9068u8[-09utgcf.,knbjmhjghmjhd,kcdgnyhgmjfchghcfbcfgj,,j
 
Darn it it did. CFGGHHJMJJKBVBBN M .LMRFKGN;GJFGK JDFGI LIKE PIE NOM NOM NOM!!!!!! 
 
QWERTY
 
I LOVE PARAMORE. THEY ROCK OUT LOUD. Literally. Alalala...
 
I have the Battle Hymn of the Republic stuck in mah head. Grroar.
 
La lalalalalala LALALALA la lala LALALA la LA la LA la la la la la laaa
 
(That was the tune.)
 
I am boreed. Maybe I should actually work on my project. Dang it.
 
BYE!
 
CEO