Getting Hurt
It’s Christmas. And I just love presents. I know Uncle Jeff is the one in the Santa suit because it is impossible to go to the bathroom for two hours nonstop. I’m not dumb like my cousins. Uncle Santa gives me a present wrapped in some funky wrapping paper that has kittens on it, so I sit down on the floor and start opening my present and…. Oh no! Just got a paper cut. And it stings. A lot. Ouch.
I love Nickel City. My favorite thing is the thing with the aliens on bicycles that go around a track, and you have to win against the machine by rolling around a ball as fast as you can with your hands. It’s the best game because you always win if you cheat and have four hands playing instead of two. My sister and I are trying to get it down to thirteen seconds and our hands burn. We put in three more nickels and start again. Just as we are coming in to the loop-tee-loop, Yikes! I can’t seem to move my fingers, I they are permanently bent. I bet they’re sprained cause they’re getting really puffy. Poop.
I am spying on my neighbors called the Jacksons. They have a really high fence and if I peep out of my blinds I can see them in their yard falling off their skateboards. But sometimes, I become extra sneaky and climb my own fence which is half its height and peer over their fence so all you can see is my head. I am so close to almost looking at the person in the hammock but then my foot slips and down I go, oops. My hand really hurts and it is bleeding gushy. I need a band aid. Now.
We are going to lambs farm to look at puppies and trinkets. They do not have lambs there. I am hungry and start complaining that I want some ham and maple syrup. So we decide to go into the restaurant, and I try to open a really heavy door, but I am a wimp and can not. But I sucked up my manliness and flung the door open… onto my toe and now I am screaming. Rats, that is painful. It’s probably broken or something since there is so much blood it is dying my blue sock purple. Help.
I love vacations. Especially when they are in Mexico and you get to have fun being in circus camp instead of school. We are on a treasure hunt looking for golden metals. I want one. I need one. I won’t stop till I get one, until I trip and a girl runs over my face with her shoe. I hate her guts. Too bad I have to get stitches. That stinks.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Collage
Elizabeth Hinkler
Saturday, September 18th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
1.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
2.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
3.
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the doom of parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Piranhas, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
4.
My Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
5.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was at the prime age of ten and seven months, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the very next morning, not to my surprise. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
6.
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop. And how they "know" that I will "never" want a dog once I get a whaft of that pleasent smell.
But I know they are gambeling with the wrong deck of cards this time. Who cares if dogs poop? Humans poop. People poop. You just have to plug your nose. Or teach your dog to go in a toilet like normal people.
I got 'em there!
7.
Today I taught Cassandra the ins and outs of the toilet. She can sit, take toilet paper, and even get the step stool to wash her hands. She is very successful and when she puts her mind to use, can accomplish many things she never thought she could. Like learning how to cook a chocolate chip omelet.
8.
My mom's family dog history:
There once was a happy doggie named Sugar Zoppetti. She was a good girl and was fed peanut butter. One day, she decided that it was time to have a baby girl, and when she did, she named her Brandi. They had lots of fun together and went swimming every day. Just like her mommy, Brandi looked in the mirror one day and noticed she was getting a bit chunky, and the extra long jogs were not seeming to help. Soon enough, Brandi gave birth to Holly, and after that it was the end because Holly ripped up Auntie Linda's apartment! The end.
9.
Today I experienced the miracle of birth. When Cassandra told me she was nauseous and couldn't eat her nutella and toast this morning, I knew something suspicious going on between her and Mr. Weeslie down the block. Five minutes later, she gave birth to her puppies! My mom recorded it for our family keepsake.
10.
My family went to the pet store today. I run straight to the dog section, and BAM! I fall in love with a puppy. I name her
Cinnamon.
She is so cute!
Your heart melts at her soft reddish-brown slightly wrinkled fur, shiny in the ultra- bright lights. I grab my parents and shove their noses next to her cage... Wait for it... cross fingers...C’mon…. This time?!?
Nope.
Daddy says she's "too expensive." Suuure. Yeaaah. He tries covering up his love for her and says she looks like a rat.
11.
Cassandra's Puppie's Names:
Cassie Cookie
Missie Happie
Sweetie Lickie
Lumpie Fuzzie
Cutie Yummie
Rosie Gravie
Dexter.
12.
We went to the pet store again. Cinnamon was gone. The worker told my mom she had been sold the day before. I am doubtful she is gone… how can you believe a creepy guy with four piercings on his furry right eyebrow? Not even an eyebrow, more like a chinchilla.
I am never going to the pet store again.
They stink.
13.
Cassandra’s puppies are getting big! Now they range from the size of an apricot to the size of my mini Donald Duck umbrella. I am trying to teach them to transition from drinking their lemonade out of sippie cups to drink out of regular dog bowls. It’s quite complicated, but here are the steps just in case I forget:
1. Put some lemonade into a sippie cup and drink it.
2. Finish the lemonade and make a yucky face.
3. Chuck the cup.
4. Put lemonade in a dog bowl.
5. Bend down, get a straw out of your pocket, and drink it.
6. Smile big and rub tummy.
14.
What time it was:
4:32 pm.
And it hit me I wasn’t getting a dog.
15.
Cassandra died. Same with the puppies. All of them. A truck filled with fluff tipped over and they died from trying to eat their way out.
16.
WHY LIFE IS AWESOME:
I AM GETTING A DOG! AND HER NAME IS SUGAR!
My parents and I went to Hackney’s and they told me for my birthday I am going to get one!
17:
My newest realization:
Parent’s aren’t so bad.
Saturday, September 18th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
1.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
2.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
3.
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the doom of parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Piranhas, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
4.
My Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
5.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was at the prime age of ten and seven months, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the very next morning, not to my surprise. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
6.
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop. And how they "know" that I will "never" want a dog once I get a whaft of that pleasent smell.
But I know they are gambeling with the wrong deck of cards this time. Who cares if dogs poop? Humans poop. People poop. You just have to plug your nose. Or teach your dog to go in a toilet like normal people.
I got 'em there!
7.
Today I taught Cassandra the ins and outs of the toilet. She can sit, take toilet paper, and even get the step stool to wash her hands. She is very successful and when she puts her mind to use, can accomplish many things she never thought she could. Like learning how to cook a chocolate chip omelet.
8.
My mom's family dog history:
There once was a happy doggie named Sugar Zoppetti. She was a good girl and was fed peanut butter. One day, she decided that it was time to have a baby girl, and when she did, she named her Brandi. They had lots of fun together and went swimming every day. Just like her mommy, Brandi looked in the mirror one day and noticed she was getting a bit chunky, and the extra long jogs were not seeming to help. Soon enough, Brandi gave birth to Holly, and after that it was the end because Holly ripped up Auntie Linda's apartment! The end.
9.
Today I experienced the miracle of birth. When Cassandra told me she was nauseous and couldn't eat her nutella and toast this morning, I knew something suspicious going on between her and Mr. Weeslie down the block. Five minutes later, she gave birth to her puppies! My mom recorded it for our family keepsake.
10.
My family went to the pet store today. I run straight to the dog section, and BAM! I fall in love with a puppy. I name her
Cinnamon.
She is so cute!
Your heart melts at her soft reddish-brown slightly wrinkled fur, shiny in the ultra- bright lights. I grab my parents and shove their noses next to her cage... Wait for it... cross fingers...C’mon…. This time?!?
Nope.
Daddy says she's "too expensive." Suuure. Yeaaah. He tries covering up his love for her and says she looks like a rat.
11.
Cassandra's Puppie's Names:
Cassie Cookie
Missie Happie
Sweetie Lickie
Lumpie Fuzzie
Cutie Yummie
Rosie Gravie
Dexter.
12.
We went to the pet store again. Cinnamon was gone. The worker told my mom she had been sold the day before. I am doubtful she is gone… how can you believe a creepy guy with four piercings on his furry right eyebrow? Not even an eyebrow, more like a chinchilla.
I am never going to the pet store again.
They stink.
13.
Cassandra’s puppies are getting big! Now they range from the size of an apricot to the size of my mini Donald Duck umbrella. I am trying to teach them to transition from drinking their lemonade out of sippie cups to drink out of regular dog bowls. It’s quite complicated, but here are the steps just in case I forget:
1. Put some lemonade into a sippie cup and drink it.
2. Finish the lemonade and make a yucky face.
3. Chuck the cup.
4. Put lemonade in a dog bowl.
5. Bend down, get a straw out of your pocket, and drink it.
6. Smile big and rub tummy.
14.
What time it was:
4:32 pm.
And it hit me I wasn’t getting a dog.
15.
Cassandra died. Same with the puppies. All of them. A truck filled with fluff tipped over and they died from trying to eat their way out.
16.
WHY LIFE IS AWESOME:
I AM GETTING A DOG! AND HER NAME IS SUGAR!
My parents and I went to Hackney’s and they told me for my birthday I am going to get one!
17:
My newest realization:
Parent’s aren’t so bad.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Draft #3!
Elizabeth Hinkler
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
1.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
2.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
3.
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the doom of parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Parana, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
4.
My Fantasy Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
5.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was at the prime age of ten and seven months, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the very next morning, not to my surprise. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
6.
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop. And how they "know" that I will "never" want a dog once I get a whaft of that pleasent smell.
But I know they are gambeling with the wrong deck of cards this time. Who cares if dogs poop? Humans poop. People poop. You just have to plug your nose. Or teach your dog to go in a toilet like normal people.
I got 'em there!
7.
Today I taught Cassandra the ins and outs of the toilet. She can sit , take toilet paper, and even get the step stool to wash her hands. She is very successful and when she puts her mind to use, can accomplish many things she never thought she could. Like learning how to cook a chocolate chip omlette.
8.
My mom's family dog history:
There once was a happy doggie named Sugar Zoppetti. She was a good girl and was fed peanut butter. One day, she decided that it was time to have a baby girl, and when she did, she named her Brandi. They had lots of fun together and went swimming every day. Just like her mommy, Brandi looked in the mirror one day and noticed she was getting a bit chunky, and the extra long jogs were not seeming to help. Soon enough, Brandi gave birth to Holly, and after that it was the end because Holly ripped up Auntie Linda's apartment! The end.
9.
Today I experienced the miracle of birth. When Cassandra told me she was nauseous and couldn't eat her nutella and toast this morning, I knew something suspicious going on between her and Mr. Weeslie down the block. Five minutes later, she gave birth to her puppies! My mom recorded it for our family keepsake.
10.
My family went to the pet store today. I run straight to the dog section, and BAM! I fall in love with a puppy. I name her Cinnamon. I grab my parents and shove their noses next to her cage... Wait for it... cross fingers...
Nope.
Daddy says she's "too expensive." Suuure. Yeaaah. He tries covering up his love for her and says she looks like a rat.
11.
Cassandra's Puppie's Names:
Cassie Cookie
Missie Happie
Sweetie Lickie
Lumpie Fuzzie
Cutie Yummie
Rosie Dexter.
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
1.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
2.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
3.
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the doom of parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Parana, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
4.
My Fantasy Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
5.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was at the prime age of ten and seven months, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the very next morning, not to my surprise. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
6.
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop. And how they "know" that I will "never" want a dog once I get a whaft of that pleasent smell.
But I know they are gambeling with the wrong deck of cards this time. Who cares if dogs poop? Humans poop. People poop. You just have to plug your nose. Or teach your dog to go in a toilet like normal people.
I got 'em there!
7.
Today I taught Cassandra the ins and outs of the toilet. She can sit , take toilet paper, and even get the step stool to wash her hands. She is very successful and when she puts her mind to use, can accomplish many things she never thought she could. Like learning how to cook a chocolate chip omlette.
8.
My mom's family dog history:
There once was a happy doggie named Sugar Zoppetti. She was a good girl and was fed peanut butter. One day, she decided that it was time to have a baby girl, and when she did, she named her Brandi. They had lots of fun together and went swimming every day. Just like her mommy, Brandi looked in the mirror one day and noticed she was getting a bit chunky, and the extra long jogs were not seeming to help. Soon enough, Brandi gave birth to Holly, and after that it was the end because Holly ripped up Auntie Linda's apartment! The end.
9.
Today I experienced the miracle of birth. When Cassandra told me she was nauseous and couldn't eat her nutella and toast this morning, I knew something suspicious going on between her and Mr. Weeslie down the block. Five minutes later, she gave birth to her puppies! My mom recorded it for our family keepsake.
10.
My family went to the pet store today. I run straight to the dog section, and BAM! I fall in love with a puppy. I name her Cinnamon. I grab my parents and shove their noses next to her cage... Wait for it... cross fingers...
Nope.
Daddy says she's "too expensive." Suuure. Yeaaah. He tries covering up his love for her and says she looks like a rat.
11.
Cassandra's Puppie's Names:
Cassie Cookie
Missie Happie
Sweetie Lickie
Lumpie Fuzzie
Cutie Yummie
Rosie Dexter.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Draft #2!
Elizabeth Hinkler
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
Ever since the beginning of time, there has been one consistent goal every child needs to attain. This detrimental NEED to a kid's life is not so easy to grasp- one must survive the power struggle of the jelly-headed parents v.s brain-tastic child, survive the promises that the jelly-heads force you to make out of pure unhumane pleasure, and survuive the phenomenon that the jelly-heads call "not old enough yet." But one must face these challenges, for if else, that child will be blown into the depths of the despairing seas, to a small underwater cave that smells like doom and unhappiness, and failure. But for me, this goal was of utmost importance, to me, a life or death situation- the top of the world or the bottom of the garbage dump. It was me against the human race of parents, and I had to stand my ground. I took a major gulp, and pleaded for the 1,962nd time in my life to my dad…
“Daddy, can I have a Dog?”
Rats.
I had to start back at the bottom of the garbage dump once again. P.U.
And P.U. is what my parents say about dogs.
My very first breath out of the womb was my cry for a dog. I needed one.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the jelly-headed parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Parana, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
My Fantasy Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was young, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the next morning. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
Ever since the beginning of time, there has been one consistent goal every child needs to attain. This detrimental NEED to a kid's life is not so easy to grasp- one must survive the power struggle of the jelly-headed parents v.s brain-tastic child, survive the promises that the jelly-heads force you to make out of pure unhumane pleasure, and survuive the phenomenon that the jelly-heads call "not old enough yet." But one must face these challenges, for if else, that child will be blown into the depths of the despairing seas, to a small underwater cave that smells like doom and unhappiness, and failure. But for me, this goal was of utmost importance, to me, a life or death situation- the top of the world or the bottom of the garbage dump. It was me against the human race of parents, and I had to stand my ground. I took a major gulp, and pleaded for the 1,962nd time in my life to my dad…
“Daddy, can I have a Dog?”
Rats.
I had to start back at the bottom of the garbage dump once again. P.U.
And P.U. is what my parents say about dogs.
My very first breath out of the womb was my cry for a dog. I needed one.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older. Maybe.”
Clarification:
No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Who said that fighting the jelly-headed parents would be easy? They are tricky, but if you know how to get yourself out of locked room filled with Parana, you are halfway there. Or possibly just really magical.
Why life is unfair:
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I, shoving a dull picture of a dog in nature, squealing she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s ugly. Kind of.”
My Fantasy Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and went all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
My parent's newest ritual:
Describing the horrors of picking up dog poop.
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was young, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the next morning. I have never had a dog since, nor do I want one. End of discussion."
My Dog, Cassandra!
Elizabeth Hinkler
Creative Writing
My Dog, Cassandra!
Ever since the beginning of time, there has been one consistent goal every child needs to attain. If not, that child will be blown into the depths of the seas, to a small underwater cave that smells like doom and unhappiness, and failure. But for me, this goal was of utmost importance, to me, a life or death situation- the top of the world or the bottom of the garbage dump. It was me against the human race of parents, and I had to stand my ground. I took a major gulp, and whispered for the 1,962nd time in my life to my dad… “Dog!”
I had to start back at the bottom of the garbage dump once again. P.U. And P.U. is what my parents say about dogs.
My very first breath out of the womb was my cry of dog. I needed one.
What I say to my parents:
“Mommy, Daddy, can I have a dog?”
Their response:
“When you are older, maybe.”
Clarification: No. Not ever. Not in one million years. Not in two million years. Not even after garbage dumps decompose. Never.
Katherine, my best friend, runs up to my sister and I after church saying she’s getting a dog.
“Ooh! Isn’t he cute? His name is Cooooodyyyy! Don’t you just looove him? He’s mmmmmine!”
“Oh yep. That is one fine dog.” In my head, I grumble,
“Too bad he’s uuuuglyyy!”
My Fantasy Dog:
Cassandra Maybelle Hinkler.
Today Cassandra was sent to me in the mail. Right away I fed her some cocoa puffs and the marshmallows from Lucky Charms. We dressed up in genie sparkle outfits and then all over town with her new bedazzled collar and leash. My parents gave me that, along with matching tiaras for Cassandra and I!
The history of dogs according to my dad:
“Well, when I was young, my parents gave me a dog and it peed in my bed. It vacated the area the next morning. I have never had a dog since.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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