“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Archive for December, 2009

Lord Bifarious

I am going to write about a man called Lord Bifarious. He is well-known in some parts of the world, and less-known in others. He has many great accomplishments, and awards for accomplishing things, and he is very boring. At least, most people think he is.
Now, the reason I am writing about him is because nobody else has, and I believe that everyone deserves to be written about. Take myself for example. I am quite interesting, to say the least, and unless somebody writes about me, no one will know what an astounding person I am. I will be my next subject.
Lord Bifarious is a nasty person. He prides himself in causing much grief and misery, while he himself is miserable. He is also vain, and bald. And so, he wears a wig, and carries a mirror about in his back pocket for emergencies.
He is ghastly to look at. Bifarious’ skin is the color, and texture, of an old sheet of writing paper, yellow and withered with age. Nobody actually knows Lord Bifarious’ age, since he prefers to keep that information a secret.
Bifarious is short, but not fat. He has small feet and a small brain, long fingernails and long ears. He is quite a comical person when you first meet him. But then, have him over for tea and you’ll find yourself wishing you hadn’t made cheese trifle. From the oil spots on the carpet, and a broken chair, you’ll realize your horrid mistake. And from the conversations you will have with him, you will see that he likes National Geographics.
Lord Bifarious is not a real lord. He simply borrowed the title from a deceased cousin of his, one whom he had never met. He also borrowed his castle, carriages, and the thousand horses he keeps in his equally borrowed sable. You will occasionally sight him awkwardly riding his favorite horse, Dill.
When you see him, you will know him instantly. He just adores wearing his red cape and boots, and he paints silver lightening bolts on his stubble. Bifarious also goes around with an armed guard. This guard is dressed as a medieval knight, and his weapon is a stick with three chains hanging from it. On the end of each of these three chains are spiked balls, good for crushing heads and breaking backs. Of course, he never uses it. When the need comes to fight, he lays it down, shrugs off his plastic armor, and practices his judo training on the offender.
As I see I’ve given you a pretty lengthy description of Lord Bifarious (I told you he was boring), I should now close. Please heed my warnings and stay away from this rude vain man, especially if you are good-looking. He may get mad at your face and unleash his two-ton bodyguard on you. That wouldn’t be pretty. Just stay out of his sight, and out of his mind, so as long as you both shall live, and we can call it good. Hopefully.

 

 

© 2010 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

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My Dream

There was a flood. Or rather; we all woke up to find the city under fifty feet of water. It was crazy. You could see people panicking on top of buildings and floating on top of boards and stuff like that. My family and I headed toward the nearest hotel, carrying all our belongings.
Then somehow I ended up a battleship. Generals and colonels and whatever their ranks are were yelling out orders and someone gave me a pair of emerald-green contact lenses. I thought, cool, thanks, what do I do with ’em? Well, obviously, contact lenses go in your eyes, and so that’s where I put them.
Apparently, I’d been chosen to head a secret mission team. At least, that’s what they called it. We were really supposed to dive under the water and kill the giant squids that were attacking the frightened city. The squids were scared of green eyes, you see.
So I swam around under the boat looking for squids, and I met a dolphin/squid/creature that I became friends with. I forgot her name. We ditched the whole “kill the squids” thing because they were her cousins, and plus, I had no idea what I was doing.
Then suddenly, I was transported to a huge mud pile, and on top of the pile stood a house. The house belonged to some friends I like to call: the Smiths. I was all, hey, whaddup? How ya doin’? Mind you, I still had bright green eyes, and I practically scared them outta their wits.
I walked inside and right away noticed Josh Smith, a kid my age, lying on the couch with a dark purple cast on his arm. The cast was all scaly, like a snake-skin, but that’s beside the point. The point is, Josh was supposed to have a cast on his leg. The doctors messed up and gave him a cast that started at the tips of his fingers and ended up somewhere ’round his armpit. Weird, I know.
Then Timothy Smith, or Timmy, as we so fondly call him, wanted me to follow him somewhere, and so I did. I followed him through this freakishly small tunnel that moved and looked like it was made out of something you’d find in your stomach, and ended up in some crazy lady’s hangout, where she told us scary and “true” stories. The thing was, all of this was in his maze-like attic.
Then I went downstairs (through the tunnel, of course), and ate dinner, and everyone was starin’ at my eyes, and at Josh’s cast, and at Timmy’s beard…don’t ask. I finished my turkey and mashed potatoes under the table, thank you very much. And of course, my dolphin slash squid slash creature friend whose name I can’t remember came back, and we had this family reunion, and it was all good. For a while.
The floodwaters rose and started to collapse the Smith’s house, and everyone started screaming all at the same time. The general, suddenly standing there, said the squids were causing the water to rise and I REALLY needed to get into action here. Soon nothing was left of the house and we were standing on an even bigger mud pile. A humongous metal fence popped up in front of us, or me, since they disappeared. My animal friend told me to wait there and she dove through the mud and went into the water below.
So I waited…and waited…and enjoyed the scenery…and waited. And then dove in after her when I saw bubbles rising. Down there I found all the squids surrounding me. Man, I was scared. Their tentacles were all touching my face and wrapping around my arms. I wanted to scream, but that’s really hard to do underwater. No one would’ve heard me anyway. Then I sneezed.
And kept on sneezing until they gave me a soggy tissue. The water was breathable! I was ecstatic (whatever that means). I swam around and around and had forgotten all about the general’s orders, when a hand grabbed me from above and dragged me out onto the mud again. It was the general, and his face was RED. My punishment, for not followin’ orders, was that I had to paint that huge metal fence. A metal color.
I was done in no time, thinking to myself that the army didn’t know a thing about punishment. Thankfully. And the metal paint made the metal fence super easy to break, and the squids went away. My creature friend died of heartbreak, though. And the flood was no longer.
And I like my green eyes.

 

 

© 2010 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

Gymnastics

Gymnastics is one of the most painful, most grueling sports there is. Not only is it hard, but it is also very painful. I write from personal experience, I know the mark it can leave on your body. After suffering from several back discomforts, a few sprained fingers, weak joints and a thick neck, I promptly quit the exercising of blisters, and moved on to greater, more important practices.

Gymnastics is also wonderful, in a way. When you work hard at it, you may receive several fruitful rewards. One, which I misplaced shortly after the ending of my infatuation with the sport, is the six-pack. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not meaning any sort of food or drink, but I am simply speaking of the beautiful six packs of muscle that one will discover on their stomach after many hours and days of workout. It usually means the absence of excess fats.

It is also a quite healthy sport, once you look past the stunted growth and multiple shin splints. Also, one must never mind the inhaling of chalk and dust during the practicing of the uneven bars in order to see straight to the healthiness of it all. And the practical uses! Why, if one were considering the occupation of a burglar or secret agent, they would find themselves hired! Gymnastics specializes in teaching quickness and agility, perfect for dodging hidden alarms and bullets.

As I believe I stated before, gymnastics is a wonderful sport, filled with danger and excitement, good for the energetic child. If you are wishing for a way to, let’s see, how to put this. . . get rid of your child, then now would be a fine time to buy a leotard and a pair of good, sturdy grips, and give them the adventure of a lifetime! Of course, several fees apply, but in the strive for physical education, one must overlook those minor speed bumps. (Please note, though, that due to lack of good hand-eye coordination, not many gymnasts make it to the Olympics. Also note, that due to the reason that this is because of no fault of my own, you can’t sue me.)

© 2009 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

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