January 27, 2011

Hey Again.

Sorry it has been a week since we last posted. I keep coming up with random ideas that I think will be funny to write about, but when I sit down and start writing, they suck. And all this takes a little longer because I have to get Emm to draw everything because I, unfortunately, am not gifted with the ability of drawing. So, anyways, I’m bad at drawing and not creative this week. I am super excited to get my first job interview!
Interviewer: So Momo, what are you good at?
Me: Umm… I can text 9 people at the same time?
Interviewer: I think you should look in other lines of work for a job…
Oh well. I have a few years before I need to do a job interview. I’ll get some talents before then! Step One: Learn how to do a good cartwheel! Maybe that won’t help me get a job, but it’s still cool. Oh, by the way, I now have a boyfriend as of Monday. He would be impressed with my cartwheel even if you guys wouldn’t. That’s why I’m dating him, not you. Sorry, I’m just being weird. Math finals are making me go crazy. All the numbers attack my brain and make me insane. Seriously, I may need a straightjacket… 
-MOMO
Update: Boyfriend is no longer boyfriend and I never did get to show him my cartwheel. But he would've been impressed.

January 20, 2011

tried to draw momo...

this one came out better! :D i know she doesnt have a nose but dont judge >:(

i tried to draw myself....

so... i tried to draw myself, but as you can see... it is a failure.
i dont even resemble this drawing.. :(

my horrible pink lemonade addiction.... :(

today, as i was home sick from school i decided to go downstairs into my basement to get my stash of of pink lemonade. knowing that no one was home i drank a whole gallon, which made me feel better for a while but then i started craving more, like i had suddenly had an addictive drug pumped into my veins.
i started crying and hurting, searching for more lemonade but my stash was gone. i had drunken the very last gallon of my precious pink lemonade..
i was running around in circles, not knowing what to do... then i fainted,
i woke up to notice that my parents had returned home... and they had bought groceries.
i  started rummaging through the bags until i found it;
bright pink and sparkling like an angel. pink lemonade.
i poured myself a glass and was instantly cured, my muscles felt better and i could move!! but then the crash came, three hours later. i started going crazy, but i knew i couldn't have any more because then it would be obvious that i was the one who kept making the lemonade disappear...

so now, i am in my room' shivering because i cant have pink lemonade... i think im going to die.....

-EMM

(p.s: i dyed my hair brown :))

January 14, 2011

THE STRUGGLE OF POTATOES

Today my family had potatoes for dinner. As I ate, I was suddenly struck with a strange horror. I realized the excruciating pain and torture that my potato had to go through in order to fill my mouth with fluffy goodness.
First, the parent potato of my potato was buried in a deep, dark hole. The parent potato sacrifices its own flesh and body to produce a new potato plant. The baby potato plant now has to eke out a miserable existence with out the loving hand of a mother or father.

Then the cruel farmers spray them with pesticides. Those pesticides kill all of their bug friends and the potato plant just has to sit there and watch them DIE. They can’t do anything about it because they are just potatoes. They do not have legs or the ability to speak. So they just watch all of their childhood friends DIE. Goodbye Jenny and Eliza and Peter! I will miss you!



Next, the farmers come with their dark scythes. They separate my potato from the only home it has ever known in one smooth sweep. The potato is then shoved into a cold, dark crate with other estranged potatoes, and then they are shipped in the gloomy mist of the truck to your local grocery store.
In the grocery store, my potato went through a period where it was struggling with its self-confidence. As the farmers used pesticides, it is therefore not classified as an organic potato. A.K.A its cheaper. The potato does not know that this is why it is listed at a lower price.




 It wonders “Am I a bad potato? Why am I cheaper? I do not understand…” Every potato has these thoughts and feelings. Except silly organic potatoes. They are all high and mighty.
But anyways, at last I pick up the seemingly unwanted potato and its self-esteem issues are mostly resolved. “Some one wants me! I'm going home!” it yells gleefully in its potato mind. But it doesn’t end. The potato nightmare never ends. As soon as it settles into my vegetable drawer, I begin to feel hungry. I grabbed the potato thoughtlessly and began to stab it mercilessly with a fork. I then wrapped my weeping potato in aluminum foil and shoved it into the burning flames of my oven.
Once it is cooked, I began to slash it open and stuff it with bacon and cheese and butter. I finally devoured it in a tasty frenzy. And finally the potatoes struggle has ended.




-MOMO

GHOSTS: i hate them

so, it was just sleeping like any other night when i felt something poke my cheek
confused, i sat up to see who it was and why they were bothering me at 4 in the morning.
but when i looked through the room, i saw nothing.
thinking i was probably just having some strange dream, i went back to sleep.  but then felt i small poke on my chest.

once again, i woke up trying to see who it was. and once again, nothing was there.
and that is why i hate ghosts. they harrass you in the night and make you paranoid.

January 13, 2011

So bored...

so fricken bored..
this is exactly what happens when Emm gets set in front of a computer for four hours with nothing to do XD hope you like the psyco unicorn :D! it will eat you o.O

HELLOOO