Post by zach on May 13, 2005 22:49:23 GMT -6
:::POW:::
A "story" by Zachary Ossefort, 6/25/04 - 7/6/04
So there was this turkey, right? And he like ate like tons and tons of hay every day, right? But remember, however many times I say "right", there will always be a chance that you will reply "no". This "writing" has basically been stream of consciousness, but someday I would like to create a writing style of my own called something like "insane fiction"... Man, that'll be great! I love writing insane fiction "stories" and someday I would like to compile them all into one awesome book for all audiences. Yes, even the illiterate folks! They can stare at those [CENSORED WORD] pages all they want! Why they would want to, I couldn't ever imagine, but if they enjoy it, then I suppose that's my goal, so happiness would be inside of me. Heh. I have this habit of deforming my sentence structure as I am talking or writing. It is actually quite fun (and interesting), and I amuse many friends, so, again, that's basically my overall goal, though it all happens "by accident"...
Anyway, the point is: phim sofwac $ qui!!! There is a long "story" behind "phim sofwac $ qui"... First of all, it is pronounced "fim, soff-wack, dollars, quee" and is sometimes given as advice to small children. Heh. It's great. I love it. Basically, how it came about is one time, about two years ago, I decided to, instead of writing the graffiti characters on my palm, write the letters how I would normally write them. What I had the intension of typing was "Palm software is cool!!!" But, something different came out, and you can probably guess what... SO, death beds. Heh. Fun expression. Excuse me for a moment while I trash pickles. I will trash some of the worst pickles in this county. They are the worst pickles by far. Joe hates 'em. I hate 'em. You'd probably hate 'em too, but you've just never had 'em! HA! Well, back to the "topic"... Pick and choose the proper smokeys. Nobody ever gets the smokeys in the right boxes... I mean, society just doesn't work out as well by far when there are always all those smokey problems. What we really need is a machine to do it all for us. Like, imagine a machine that could put a smokey into a box. And the right box too! WOOHOO!!! (Mugs of hot chocolate.)
I am currently writing this as I am sitting on a plane that has not yet taken off. We (Rod, my mom, and me) are headed for Moline, Illinois to visit my actual dad's parents, then we are headin' off to upstate Minnesota for awhile to visit Rod's awesome friends. I know how much all of this matters to you, and I know how much you would like to hear more, but I am sorry to say that I am ready to go back to writing some insane stream of consciousness.
You know, lots of people think everyone loves pizza... But sometimes pizza just isn't good enough. It begins to eat at your brain and you begin to die. It is intense. I mean, you know how it is, right? You start eating a piece of pizza, and then you immediately realize that it is eating you and that it is not giving you the expected sensation. Come on, you know the feeling! Well so far this... thing... still hasn't wasted a page yet... I guess I will just have to make it take up a page. The plane took off about half an hour ago, and right now I am wondering whether the music I a listening to through my headphones is bothering my mom... I don't think it is, but I'm not sure, and for some reason I'm not asking her. Hmmm... I'm confused about my own thoughts right now. Confusion is cool, though. I don't think Devon agrees, but hey, he might. Actually I think there is a good chance that he does. This has now officially taken up more than a page!!! Yay!!! Well I think I'm going to sleep/listen to music for a bit...
Yay!!! We're in Moline, Illinois, and I am showing my laptop to my grandparents! They think it's neat. So do the five chickens inside of the concrete turkey foot. So, about that lump of heat. Samuel stared and stared at the small vibrating lump of what the whole gang agreed was completely natural, pure essence of what we know as "heat". Samuel did not know what he could possibly do to confuse and destroy the shivering mass forever without burning any flesh, so he and the rest of the gang just sat there on Samuel's front porch steps, gazing at the night sky with fish-like expressions on their faces. They began to slowly realize that they had all transformed into genetic duplicates of the character "Kikkoman", whose head was a fish with a human face on one of its sides. Then, my good friend Zack and I stepped into the "story" and gave each of the members of the gang $1,000 for their awesome genetic transformation into our favorite cartoon idol. What happened next, you would be better off burning all your fingers than knowing.
I will now change the subject and tell you the original "story" of Noah and his arc, exactly as it was originally written in the original bible. Noah was a man of 93 who loved animals. He loved the animals of this world in a different way than most of us would ever imagine. Instead of loving them affectionately and keeping them as pets and such, he loved them as his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Everyone loved him as well. (Not in the same way, mind you)... So one day, he decided that he wanted a very special treat. (Of course, it was actually the decision of the lord, though Noah did not know this at the time). He wanted to stuff two of every animal into his rather large mouth, and swallow them all. He would then proceed to die. On the very next day, two of each animal climbed into Noah's huge mouth, two by two. To this day, many still wonder why the animals entered so willingly. Nobody really knows. Noah stood, waiting for his second expectation of his plan to occur. He did not die, however. Instead, he began to float up into the cold air. As he floated, he was confused. He wasn't just confused, he was frightened. He was also very disappointed. He did not want to be in the air. He wanted death; I mean, he had eaten thousands of live animals... Death was obviously his pursued goal. But no, Noah was headed for the Grand Canyon... Noah hovered over the gargantuan canyon for quite some time. Eventually, the almighty God made Noah explode because he felt that his earlier decision had been a mistake. He apologized greatly to all of Noah's friends and relatives by giving each of them a $100 gift certificate to "The Muffin Place" where they serve three types of delicious muffins: "Plain", "Blueberry", and "Squashed by an actual steam roller!" Noah's relatives loved their gift certificates and went out to use them right away. The muffins were the best they had ever eaten.
THE END
(of that particular section of the "story")
The "story" continues with Zimbabwe magically producing (vomiting up) a slug. It was a large, juicy one with spikes and small dogs sticking out of it. The poor thing looked awfully disgusting, but he was a sweet one. Whenever he would take a step, a kid would appear. The kid would then be frightened by the slug's awful awfulness, and he or she would begin to back away. But before the child could take one step, the small dogs all over the slug would start barking loudly. The kid would be very scared. So scared, in fact, that he or she would not be able to move. The slug would then start comforting the child and playing games with him or her, and then the child would become good friends with the slug. That was a fairly happy "story"... It was too boring and "for small children" sounding, though...
So far this "story" so far has been fairly random, but I do not want it to be too random, in hopes that someday I may publish all of my "stories" in one [CENSORED WORD] huge book. I want it to be suitable for small children, so that they can come into this world being like me; [CENSORED WORD]ed up and cool at the same time. I also want it to be suitable for adults, so that they can be confused while their brains try and try to grasp the sense in it all... This particular paragraph will be good for mainstream adults, because there is something that they can understand. Abnormal adults are my favorites, though. The ones who can make sense out of insanity. They're the best! For people of that category, like my mom and dad and most of my friends, this part will be sort of boring. Because of this unavoidable fact, I will continue writing in the way I love...
You know, if you are reading this and you are not me, then it will bite you on the nose. But first, you must bite YOURSELF on the nose. *Sits back and watches you in amusement* Heh. Fun stuff. Man, now that I think about it, that was a little too dumb for people to read. [CENSORED WORD], I am so sorry... Look, just forget you read that, okay? Go do a couple backflips while you don't think about it. Please get your mind off it.
DEATH BEDS. Heh, not really. I was just kiddin' ya. Death beds don't exist right now. I'm not into death. I think I'd rather die sitting in a chair than tied to a chair. I never really thought about that until now. It's kind of a weird subject, I mean, being tied to a chair isn't that bad, but I guess it's worse than sitting in one. Nice weird thought for the day.
Wow. It's 4:53 PM on July 6th, 2004. I haven't worked on this story for awhile. Oh, [CENSORED WORD] it.
--tHe--EnDy--
