Monday, December 29, 2008

Guest Blogger!!

I haven't been able to update (or rather, I haven't gotten around to updating) for a while because a) my computer's power cord died and hasn't been replaced, so I haven't been surgeically attached to my laptop quite so much, and b) it's Christmas and I've been busy chilling with the family.

So in my absence, I give you the first post from guest blogger Genny (aka my 7th grade poem writing soul mate):

The Hampsters of Room 16B and the Nerf Ball Massacre
(by Genny)

Living merrily in a cage, hampsters frolicked, or so they did...
I'll tell you the story of old time and age, which happened when I was a kid.

To Oak Hills School I did go, my class was room 16B.
A tank full of hampsters, 3 were named Joe, and those 3 belonged to me.

They became weary of their old cage, sometime in May I think.
They escaped and we look everywhere, even the classroom sink.

We cried and blubbed and sobbed and weeped. Our hampsters, they were gone!
All three Joes' I missed them so (but I changed one of their names to Shawn).

We left for gym class to play dodgeball, despite our scurvy luck.
Boy those Joes (and one named Shawn) they really are a schmuck!

A bag of Nerf's lay on the ground, basking in their own glory-
"now stop it you kid! Don't interrupt now! Just let me finish my story!"

Now this part is tragic, PG-13 I must say, or maybe even R.
This was a bad end for those Joe's (and one named Shawn) even worse than a squish by a car!

Now I picked up those Nerfs and I threw 'em real hard, at a weird girl named Delore.
Out fell old Joe (or maybe Shawn?) laying on the floor!

It swigged and stammered here and there and then fell flat on it's back.
We threw more balls and more hampsters fell out, and this is REALLY wack.

They moved into the balls because it was soft and better than bark dust you see,
I took it on myself to save those hampsters, and so did she and he.

All were present and accounted for except Suzanne and Fred.
3 were missing, 5 were hurt and 4 were plan out dead!

We held a funeral for the 4 under the sycamore tree,
(I think it was the day I kicked Louanna and then got stung by a bee).

A 14 nerf gun salute we gave the missing and then stood proud, solemn and tall.
But that got old really quick, so we went off to play wall ball.

Living merrily in a cage, hampsters frolicked, or so they did...
I'll tell you the story of old time and age, which happened when I was a kid.


And the reviews are already in: "A heartwarming, apolopytic tale of the fragility of mammal life and the frivolty and materialism that is taught in society's modern schools" -The Washington Post, Rhymeworm Weekly

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