| Writer's Block: Cramming Yourself into a Sentence |
[Mon21Jul08. 1028pm] |
spaceless |
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| nothingworks,notastupidthingworks |
[Mon21Jul08. 1026pm] |
jeezthisisdepressing
ourkeyboardjustsuddenlydecidestoupanddieonus
theapostrophekey
andobviouslythespacebar
theyjust...died
bastards |
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| Writer's Block: The Eternal Nocturnal Struggle |
[Sat14Jun08. 1026am] |
just because i had a really weird dream this morning. In my dream...
we were in the hallway of some school with a balcony in the middle (yknow, like the one looking into a garden and with a sunroof and whatnot). the balcony's got red handrails. one of the classrooms had very few people in it; it was where my dad was supposed to conduct a lecture. now y'all know my dad is a pastor right?
but today he's talking about werewolves.
we hang out in the hallway, waiting for people to go in the classroom. a few people trickle in, but not a considerable amount. and then, when it's time to start the lecture and he decided enter and start the talk, the place is suddenly jam-packed.
he says a few words, then beckons me to enter; raging, Sweeney Todd-style, i slam the door open with arms outstretched and stomp in. "at last!" i cry out loud.
we divide the class into smaller groups, and give them pieces of paper.
it's the old Murderer game, but with a werewolf twist. the werewolf is the murderer, and everyone he bites becomes a werewolf as well. the detective is the silver bullet, and for some reason there's a healer-- who, in our game, is a refigerator.
anyway, the lecture goes on, and my dad relates The Cask of Amontillado with lycantrophy. i have no idea how.
that's it!
oh and in Sims 2, my Pleasantview has been overrun by zombie vampires. it's I Am Legend all over again. even George, Franny, and Angel has turned, even with me trying to rescue them. D: |
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strammermax's journal