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Once, there was a girl named Frazzle. Frazzle basically minded her own business. She went to class, paid a ridiculous amount of attention in class(not that the teachers deserved it), was constantly stressed to the point of spontaneous combustion, did all her homework, laughed with her friends and didn't make any trouble. But Frazzle had, by a cruel twist of a thing called fate -- been tossed into the same classroom with a very infuriating person. His name was Blondie. Blondie was a pretty cool person according to the majority of the student body. He had a wide knowledge of rock music and various other branches of the awesome art of rock, dashing good looks, an enviable spot on the school football team, a sharp sense of humor and intelligence to top it all off. But Frazzle didn't like Blondie at all. He was superficial, rude, self-absorbed, lacked human compassion, condescending, perverted and unbelievable arrogant. So arrogant that it should be against the law to be that arrogant. This and the fact that Blondie in fact, had a girlfriend -- repelled Frazzle. But Blondie did not listen to Frazzle's not-so-subtle rejections. She tried shoving him, slapping him and the evil eye -- and all went by unsurpassed by Blondie's senses. Blondie just wouldn't listen to her signals, which screamed loud and clear her blatant dislike. Blondie slipped his arm around Frazzle' s shoulder in the hallway unexpectedly, singing and bobbing his head to an unidentifiable rock song in Frazzle's ear. This made Frazzle very P.O'ed. If Blondie was going to cross the boundaries to physical contact, he had better address her by name first! Frazzle glared at Blondie and asked if he had an Ipod embedded in his brain. Because it was obviously interfering with his other mental functions. Blondie ignored yet another signal of rejection and repeated the offense later on the bus. Frazzle was now worse than P.O'ed, Frazzle was officially MAD. So, angry and quite frazzled -- Frazzle wrote a long email to her dear, sagacious friend, Upper ClassWoman and asked for her advice. How to get the unwanted suitor off her back and gain the attention of the one she was REALLY interested in? Frazzle would love to know. But for now, she will wait -- frazzled and very, very pissed.
Unknown "Dehlatata"
- 16 years, 8 months, 23 days ago
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There once was a girl. Her name was Erlack. Erlack liked to write, so she joined the newspaper at school. This newspaper had an editor. This editor ordered Erlack to sell cheap t-shirts at a school basketball game to raise money for the heavily-indebted school's newspaper club. Erlack agreed reluctantly. Erlack forgot about the task and stayed up until three a.m. watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End and had to wake up much too early with much too little sleep. Only five and a half hours, in fact. Erlack, went though. Erlack found her to-be-savior-co-staff-editor was missing and therefore had to how you say, 'try desperately to find the t-shirts, set up the table and remember the dang prices' with no help. Erlack was doing well though - she got free Reeses peanut butter cups and she was ringing in customers - oh, yeah! But then a middle-aged woman came to Erlack's humble little t-shirt stand. She seemed ordinary to Erlack. But she was a tricky one. She held up a couple of t-shirts in various sizes, comparing, mumbling to her quite large companion incoherently, then proceeded to waddle off with one of them. Erlack tried to speak, but could not bring herself to. So, stupidly, she let them get away with the precious cheap t-shirt. Her editor was going to murder her. Then, with a sudden impulse of fear of certain death, Erlack ran after them, while her co-editor, who had just arrived, yelled, "Erlack! Erlack!" The concession stand man nodded, "EXACTLY!" he yelled, waving the ketchup bottle. Erlack bounded after the woman with the stolen cheap t-shirt and the penguin-like-gait and proceeded to trip. The nacho seller tripped over the fallen Erlack and shrieked, "Erlack!" The concession man yelled, "EXACTLY!" while waving the finger-stained ketchup bottle. The tray of cheesy nachos then proceeded to sail through the air and land, lo and behold, onto the star basketball player's face, the hot cheese burning his eyeballs to a cheesy crisp. While he writhed on the floor, the opposing team proceeded to pulverize the local team, while their loyal fans cheered and carried them out of the gymnasium on their shoulders, chanting, "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS AND THE OPPONENTS ARE CHEESED!" Then the local basketball members proceeded to look for the one who had been the cause of this cheesy catastrophe -- while Erlack stealthily began to tiptoe towards the back exit. As Erlack eased open the steel door, carefully as to not let its hinges emit an ear-splitting squeak -- the nacho man yelled, "Erlack!" and all eyes turned on her as she slowly, dread-filled, turned to face the angry crowd, soon to become angry-mob. The concession man waved the finger-stained ketchup bottle and yelled, "EXACTLY!"
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