Brenton
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Always Eighteen
AhmedGIANT GIRL DOLL
June 25th 2007 00:20
Downwrite - Every writer is a frustrated actor who recites his lines in the hidden auditorium of his skull; Rod Serling
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I'm Convinced of the Relevance of Myself and My Poetry
June 21st 2007 14:56
Look out there
Life is beautiful
Truly, I mean it
People are beautiful
Caramel popcorn – there’s memories
It’s our Christmas cheer
The human compacity for love is stunning.
Look over there
Lester Burnham would be bored, again
This isn’t life this is stuff
It’s not surprising but it is sad
No missionaries will convert these heathens
So poor in their wealth
To die, to sleep no more
Clutching your marble pillars and boats
Can I get the icon in cornflower blue?
Emotional attachment to radios
Cut me, I bleed
Cut me, I’ll sue you
New York Minute
Why isn’t the Maccy D poster girl eating?
My soul cost $55 on Yahoo
Live more
Buy less
Start a fight
Wash your blues away
Unbecome comfortably numb
Choose Life
Life is beautiful
Truly, I mean it
People are beautiful
Caramel popcorn – there’s memories
It’s our Christmas cheer
The human compacity for love is stunning.
Look over there
Lester Burnham would be bored, again
This isn’t life this is stuff
It’s not surprising but it is sad
No missionaries will convert these heathens
So poor in their wealth
To die, to sleep no more
Clutching your marble pillars and boats
Can I get the icon in cornflower blue?
Emotional attachment to radios
Cut me, I bleed
Cut me, I’ll sue you
New York Minute
Why isn’t the Maccy D poster girl eating?
My soul cost $55 on Yahoo
Live more
Buy less
Start a fight
Wash your blues away
Unbecome comfortably numb
Choose Life
| 58 |
| Vote |
Comments (4) LEDGEND OF THE FISHCAKE WARRIORS: BOOK VI: FRED
June 21st 2007 03:19
Fred was too lazy to go through the herbs and spices isle so he went out of Woolworth’s, and made his way towards the transporter shop.
“The ones that are grown by Aussie farmers!” Said a passing young lout with big ears.On the way there the ground suddenly shook.
“Look” Cried a businessman.
“Carrotzilla!”
“Graw!” Cried the fifty-foot, many-toothed carrot. Fred stared at it, then ran into a nearby telephone box where he phoned his granny.
“Hello dear” She said.
“Hey Gran, It’s Fred”
“Who? What? When? Why? How? Is there a funeral?”
“No It’s Fred. There’s a fifty foot carrot terrorizing the city.”
“Mrs Aldersons one flew away this morning. It was only a thirty foot one though”
“No Gran, a carrot. CARROT!”
“Oh yes, that’s Carrotzilla. He’s looking for Mayor Bummyhead. He called me a silly old lady on the phone this morning, so I told Carrotzilla to eat him. Hah! No one messes with your Grandma my lad”
“Gran!”
“Well he deserves it”
“Make it stop. You must!”
“A Crust! A CRUST! YOU DARE CALL YOUR GRANNY A CRUST!”
“ No, I…”
“PIE! YOU CALLED ME PIE! I’LL SHOW YOU PIE MY BOY”
“Gran, it’s not…”
“I EAT WHAT?! SNOT! IT’S TIME YOU LEARNT SOME MANNERS MY BOY!!!” His Gran slammed down her phone. Something rang. Carrotzilla grumpily spat Mayor Bummyhead into a very big wallet and answered his mobile phone.
“Grer! Grumbershner. Gred! A grust! Grie! Greet Grot! Gri’ll grow grun grin groth grunderly grunks!” He pulled Mayor Bummyhead out and threw him at a sign that said ‘THANK YOU FOR NOT LISTENING’ and stormed towards Fred. Fred ran off, but before he could escape, Carrotzilla had sent fourth his trusty finger and flicked Fred off into the distance. Fred flew through the air, swallowing a fly and intercepting a sparrows passage of flight before landing on the Woolworth’s roof.
“I think I have heartily dismembered my groovy spleen” He groaned when he sat up. Carrotzilla stormed over to him. Fred tried to run, but found that his legs had fallen off.
“Well shave my poodle and fax my bed! They’ve fallen off again!” Carrotzilla reached over to pick up Fred, but with lightening speed Fred had pulled himself across the Woolworth’s roof and pulled out his rubber chicken and cane toad launcher. He screamed a heroic battle cry, with skill and determination in his eye (And thigh) and screamed
“I WILL WIN OR DIE!” Then he promptly fell through a weak part of the roof in a mass of dust, woodworms, various French cheeses and rather rusty nails. He pulled himself up.
“Ouch” He said. Carrotzilla loomed over him, reaching down to grab him.
“NOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO” Cried Fred, frozen to the spot by his lack of legs. Panic spread through his mind like Vegiemight. Carrotzilla pulled out his mushing machine and threw Fred in where he was mushed into a gooey pulp, covered in lucious jelly, and smothered in dairy milk chocolate (Perfect served with fresh Red Stinging Nettle Milk available only from Jeweler®). He was then sold to Woolworth’s where he was put at the end of the isle in a large packet (Sealed for your protection).
“The ones that are grown by Aussie farmers!” Said a passing young lout with big ears.On the way there the ground suddenly shook.
“Look” Cried a businessman.
“Carrotzilla!”
“Graw!” Cried the fifty-foot, many-toothed carrot. Fred stared at it, then ran into a nearby telephone box where he phoned his granny.
“Hello dear” She said.
“Hey Gran, It’s Fred”
“Who? What? When? Why? How? Is there a funeral?”
“No It’s Fred. There’s a fifty foot carrot terrorizing the city.”
“Mrs Aldersons one flew away this morning. It was only a thirty foot one though”
“No Gran, a carrot. CARROT!”
“Oh yes, that’s Carrotzilla. He’s looking for Mayor Bummyhead. He called me a silly old lady on the phone this morning, so I told Carrotzilla to eat him. Hah! No one messes with your Grandma my lad”
“Gran!”
“Well he deserves it”
“Make it stop. You must!”
“A Crust! A CRUST! YOU DARE CALL YOUR GRANNY A CRUST!”
“ No, I…”
“PIE! YOU CALLED ME PIE! I’LL SHOW YOU PIE MY BOY”
“Gran, it’s not…”
“I EAT WHAT?! SNOT! IT’S TIME YOU LEARNT SOME MANNERS MY BOY!!!” His Gran slammed down her phone. Something rang. Carrotzilla grumpily spat Mayor Bummyhead into a very big wallet and answered his mobile phone.
“Grer! Grumbershner. Gred! A grust! Grie! Greet Grot! Gri’ll grow grun grin groth grunderly grunks!” He pulled Mayor Bummyhead out and threw him at a sign that said ‘THANK YOU FOR NOT LISTENING’ and stormed towards Fred. Fred ran off, but before he could escape, Carrotzilla had sent fourth his trusty finger and flicked Fred off into the distance. Fred flew through the air, swallowing a fly and intercepting a sparrows passage of flight before landing on the Woolworth’s roof.
“I think I have heartily dismembered my groovy spleen” He groaned when he sat up. Carrotzilla stormed over to him. Fred tried to run, but found that his legs had fallen off.
“Well shave my poodle and fax my bed! They’ve fallen off again!” Carrotzilla reached over to pick up Fred, but with lightening speed Fred had pulled himself across the Woolworth’s roof and pulled out his rubber chicken and cane toad launcher. He screamed a heroic battle cry, with skill and determination in his eye (And thigh) and screamed
“I WILL WIN OR DIE!” Then he promptly fell through a weak part of the roof in a mass of dust, woodworms, various French cheeses and rather rusty nails. He pulled himself up.
“Ouch” He said. Carrotzilla loomed over him, reaching down to grab him.
“NOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO” Cried Fred, frozen to the spot by his lack of legs. Panic spread through his mind like Vegiemight. Carrotzilla pulled out his mushing machine and threw Fred in where he was mushed into a gooey pulp, covered in lucious jelly, and smothered in dairy milk chocolate (Perfect served with fresh Red Stinging Nettle Milk available only from Jeweler®). He was then sold to Woolworth’s where he was put at the end of the isle in a large packet (Sealed for your protection).
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| Vote |
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Posted By: Brenton - Category: Ledgend of the Fishcake Warriors
Japanese Girls
June 18th 2007 14:56
Japanese girls operate on a tangent dimension
Japanese girls dress in cute clothes, intended for five year olds
Japanese girls sooner worship Elmo than Brad Pitt
Japanese girls dress in cute clothes, intended for five year olds
Japanese girls sooner worship Elmo than Brad Pitt
| 76 |
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Read More The Best Way to Write a Poem
June 18th 2007 11:46
MATURE CONTENT
[ Link ]
Posted By: Always Eighteen - Category: Poetry
Loci Brokili the cool and funky disco breaker went through the pet food isle.
“Mmm…Pet food” He said with a gleam in his eye. He had never told anyone, but eating Unlucky Dog dog food twice a day was the reason he was such a funky disco breaker. He grabbed a can and tried to pry the lid off. Suddenly a voice boomed out of the loudspeaker.
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Posted By: Brenton - Category: Ledgend of the Fishcake Warriors
Silly poem.
June 15th 2007 10:16
girl.
June 13th 2007 12:20
Splinternet
June 12th 2007 12:48
Why am I sitting here
So blindly sending my darkness through coils of wire
To you
So blindly sending my darkness through coils of wire
To you
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| Vote |
Dr Baker
June 11th 2007 07:24
“As the blood of the lamb is splattered over this token, I beseech you, oh Charon, take the unborn back on your ferry, deliver him form, deliver him voice and send him forth to meet with he who did not grant him pass onto life’s green hills.”
[ Click here to read more ]
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I ate a book
June 1st 2007 11:37
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