punkassbetty
Pony up. Pony for your daughter? why? which all this excess. Let the animal be free and the human be humble...pony. Be free pony. Be free human. It's the wisest way to be for both.
Epic is word that has been cheapened by this generation. It should be used to describe things like "The Iliad" , or General Custards last stand, the invention of the light-bulb. Your best-friend puking on a police car with the officer still inside the car does NOT qualify as epic.
She sat in the food court, headphones blaring, 17 and pissed off for no particular reason. She sipped her frozen lemonade and watched the grey haired men on their lunch breaks like animals in a zoo. She examined the distinguished lines on their faces, their crisp suits and handsome ties. She wondered if they had ever been 17 and pissed off just like she was.
She walked down the hall, ignoring the cat calls coming from the cells that lined either side of her. She waited at the end of the hall for the guard to unlock the door that separated her from her father.
the fluorescent lights hummed overhead, spewing their sterile blue light over everything. everybody looked pale and sick, like the were dying or already dead. she shuffled down the hallway in her pink slippered feet, shuffling was something she had picked up since she began her stay here. Maybe it was from watching the crazies shuffle up and down the halls all day muttering to people who were there, or maybe it was just a necessary evil to keep theoe damned pink hospital slippers on her feet.
i worked at a gym for six years. any hopes i had for humanity died behind the member service counter. if the hundreds of 12-17 yr old kids i encountered on a daily basis are any indication of the state of the rest of the country's youth, we're doomed. sarah palin scares you? fuck that, snooki will be our president. put on your helmets and buckle your seat belts.
The smell of bleach stung her nose as she slopped a rag over the mustard yellow Formica table top. These were the same tables she had sat at when she went to school here. She tried not to think about it, but couldn't help but wonder if the poor bastard who had been the janitor here when she attended had the same malicious thoughts about her and her classmates as she did of the little bastards that went to school here today. . .
Somebody had once told her she hadn't lived until she had eaten mangoes naked and let juice drip down her arms. Too bad mangoes tasted like dirt and that hippy bullshit didn't impress her. She couldn't see that being one of the regrets that snuck up on her as she lay on her deathbed. If she ever did decide to eat a mango, it would be fully clothed and most likely leaning over a sink, thank you very much.
He tried to kill himself with a flare gun, like that kid in "Breakfast Club". Except it didn't go off in his locker, it went off in his hand, pointed at his face. Now he's lying in a hospital bed with cherry pie filling for a face. It seemed cruel to her as she sat in her car in the hospital parking lot, it he hadn't wanted to live before, how must he feel now?
Her memories played like an old film reel in her mind, black and white, skipping in places and some scenes lost all together. She remembered, burnt spoons, and traffic lights, the blur of the city as it passed her glassy eyes. And last, a stain on the basement floor that would forever mark where a friendship ended.
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