Confession Tuesday: The Men Who Stare at The Men Who Stare at Goats

August 31, 2010

Confession Tuesday

The Men Who Stare at The Men Who Stare at Goats.

My last birthday was completely ruined. I had just turned thirteen and I was at Disney World at the emptiest time of year. How can anything possibly ruin that? You’re probably thinking. I will tell you what could possibly ruin that: ‘The Men Who Stare at Goats.’ That is what could ruin a birthday.

I had to sit through that! It was horrible! All I wanted to do was rip my eyes from their sockets. About twenty minutes through I looked down at my junior mints, thinking about a way to commit suicide with them. Anything but this.

Before the movie I kept begging my mum to take us to Zombieland and Saw VI. No matter how much I begged, no matter how much I pleaded the answer remained the same: “No, they are both rated R and Immi will be with us.” Despite the fact that ‘The Men Who Stare at Goats’ was rated R and had nudity in it! I could of lived a happy life without having to see George Clooney without a shirt.

There I was sitting in one of those really uncomfortable chairs they have at A.M.C. Having nothing to amuse myself with but a half-eaten box of Junior Mints, a Diet Coke and a little dancing stick figure that appears on my watch if I press the ‘light’ button. It pained me to think that just a few meters away somebody was watching somebody chopping their arm off or a zombie’s head exploding and then there’s me watching a movie about people that mind-kill goats, lucky me.

You would think that after such a horrendous birthday that my fourteenth would be epic, that is where you’re wrong. It will be spent on a plane. At least staring at the back of somebody’s chair for four hours will be better than one-and-a-half hours of goats getting mind-killed. To compensate for that the day before we will go to Planet Hollywood (seeing as I am now boycotting Red Lobster because I think that it is sick to ask somebody to pick a lobster to kill.)

Now you know how bad my thirteenth was. All because George Clooney though mind-killing goats was funny. Now, I’ve heard that somebody’s appendix blew up or something like that on their birthday, I say somebody to protect the persons identity…and it is totally not Jaye. Did I just give away the identity? Oops. If only I was so lucky, I’d blow up anything to get out of that movie.

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I Watch Prison Break

August 28 2010

Poetry Friday

My ordinary

I Watch Prison Break

Because it is exciting,

Because it is an adventure you can go on without leaving the room.

It is a part of my daily routine,

I do not know what makes it special. It just is.

Hours at a time,

Spent staring at my laptop.

It was a bubble I lived in, it was a whole different world.

Season three, season finale. I had waited for this,

And despite the fact that Charlie was shouting at mum,

And Immi was screaming with her annoying friend.

About reasons I don’t know about,

Or care about.

You would think that these things bother me,

But they don’t. I had better things to worry about,

Like the safety of the characters.

Immi’s friends mum was at the door,

I didn’t acknowledge her, not wanting to miss a single second of Prison Break,

Not a hi, hello, hey or even a how-are-you.

Not even a nod.

Reviews said that season that the third season was bad,

How could anybody not like this?

Oh well, I didn’t think about them,

Or care about them.

Immi’s friends mum sat on the couch,

She must have been asked to stay.

This is gonna make me look really bad.

I couldn’t say hi now, I would look stupid!

Oh well.

Slice of Life: Lunch-Boxed

Slice of Life

Lunch-Boxed!

Okay, firstly I want to say that I know that I didn’t have to write this but I was bored and so I thought, ‘what the heck?’ and here I am…even though I know only one person will ever read this.

I think I need to set the scene a little bit before I begin the actual story. For those of you that don’t already know Mehr is super bipolar. That plays an important role in the story so keep that in mind. Also I don’t know how to spell J’s name so I’m spelling it as the letter J.

(This is not the actual story, this is the prelude…if that’s the right word.) It was six thirty at night and Jacob was sitting on my couch as I typed up my Wordly Wise Wednesday thing. We were home alone, except for my eleven-year-old brother. Earlier that night we went swimming with Mehr and J and they were both nice. (That was soon to change…well, kind of one turned mean the other remained nice). Anyways, as we left the pool Mehr said, “Hey, if you want later you can come to my house.”

We then went upstairs and I did my homework. At six thirty I asked Jacob to BBM Mehr to see if we could go to her house. The answer was, “Later.” We mindlessly stared at the view from the balcony for about ten minutes when we then asked again: “Can we come over now?” The answer was: “No! Leave us alone.” We both laughed at the message. “Mood swings.” I remarked.

Ten minutes later we sent the same message: “Can we come over?” Our question was answered by: “No, leave us alone or I will delete you from my contacts.”

“Oh-no!” I laughed, “Not deleted! Could there be anything worse?” We both laughed and then decided to leave them alone. We opened up my laptop and started playing a game about being a giant worm and eating things. About half-an-hour later Jacobs blackberry vibrated. “You’ve got mail.” I said.

We both looked at the screen. It was message from Mehr. Saying ‘hey’. “Typical bipolarness (yes I know that’s not a word.). What did you expect?” I asked Jacob. So Jacob nicely responded ‘hi’ back. They started talking and about five minutes later a message came through saying, “I told you to leave us alone! I’m deleting you now!”

“What the hell!?” Jacob said to himself.

“It was probably J.” I guessed. How dare she be nice like that! The nerve of that girl.” I laughed.

Anyways, we both went to sleep at around half ten. We were awoken by my alarm clock’s beep that I stupidly set for five forty-five even though I didn’t need to be up until six. I could probably wake up at six thirty and still be down for the bus for six forty five. But whatever, we were up now. We got dressed, Jacob borrowed one of my shirts- which by the end of the day was stained by food, had a bowl of mini-wheats each for breakfast collected our things and went downstairs.

About five minutes later Mehr and J came downstairs. Mehr was still in a bad mood, I was surprised that her mood hadn’t swung yet. (Zing!) J was still nice though. We then played a stupid game with the seventh graders Marc and Anthony in which you throw a ball in the air then throw it at someone.

Anyways we got on the bus and Jacob and I were asking J about what happened last night, not wanting to talk to Mehr because she would probably bite me. (Yes I know, how weird is that?) Apparently J was bitten too. Anyways- just out of the blue Mehr decided to hit me over the head with her ‘handy-dandy’ lunchbox as she likes to call it.

“Why did you just lunch box me?” I asked.

“Yeah, why did you lunch box him?” Jacob added.

“Shut up Jacob! You’re lucky I didn’t do anything to you!” Mehr shouted.

“Yeah, you dodged a bullet with that one…you nearly got the box.” I laughed.

“Hey, if you don’t be quiet I’m gonna tell Mrs. Sosa or Mrs. Tuchi about you so I recommend shutting up!”

“What are you going to tell them. ‘Max asked if he could come to my house so I ‘lunch-boxed’ him?”

That shut her up. Mission Accomplished I thought to myself. Before anybody reading this says it, yes I do know this story was almost as boring as the movie ‘Valentines Day’. I really HATED that movie! RAWR!!!

What happened that night?

‘The Tell Tale Heart’

Polices point of view

By Max Duckworth

My partner and I walked through the night after receiving information from the chief that a scream was heard in this neighborhood, a murder perhaps? From the way he was shouted I derived that this wasn’t just somebody screaming at a rat. We had to corroborate to the ladies’ statement, no matter how much we wanted to go to sleep. Clad in heavy coats we walked to the next house watching our breath turn to mist before us in the cold night air. We both wanted to succumb to the night and return home to our families although we both knew that it couldn’t happen because the chief expected no less than an endeavor.

We had reached the next house. I knocked on the heavy, ice cold, wooden door. Its hard, jagged surface caused an abrasion on my knuckles. A man opened the door and said merrily, “Hello officers.”

“Hello sir, we’ve heard that there was a scream coming from this house. Would you happen to know anything about this?”

“Oh…I am so sorry officers. That shriek was mine, I was having a nightmare you see.” He apologized. “And the old man that lives here, well he’s off in the countryside. Cornwall I think.”

“Well, we hate to inconvenience you but we must search the house even though you seem fine.” I noticed how his smile grew for a second, just for a second. Relief perhaps?

After making a cursory search of the premises. The gentleman invited us to the elderly man’s chambers for a cup of tea. My partner and I searched the room. Doing an inventory as we did so. I found a small chest of jewelry under the bed. Rich guy. I opened up the box and found a diamond the size of my hand. I gingerly lifted it up to my face, fascinated by it. When I looked over my shoulder I could see my partner stupidly wearing a big diamond necklace. Simulating being a rich man.

I was handed the hot mug of tea. I was virtually dehydrated, and the first sip I had felt like water in a desert. “Cheers.” I said. Before we started the usual questioning process although judging the man’s calm manner I had surmised that he was innocent.

However as the conversation escalated the mans voice became higher and he started speaking quicker. Like all of a sudden he was nervous.

His voice got higher and he spoke faster. Until finally he exploded. “Villains!! Dissemble no more! I admit the deed!- Here, here tear up the planks here! Here! Is the beating of his hideous heart!” He started screaming and running around the room kicking the chairs and flipped over the bed.

“Sir! SIR! Please stand still!” I demanded but he persisted. “Stop or I will take physical action!” I threatened, removing my baton from my side.

The man screamed and lunged at my partner. “It was the eye! THE EYE!!! It was driving me crazy!!! You have to believe me!!!” He screamed. My partner was stunned, electrified in fact. I had seen enough, a grimace crossed my face. I lifted the baton above my head and them swung it down, hard on his shoulder- braking it.

I pinned his arms behind his back and held him on the floor, he tried to resist even with a broken shoulder. My partner started tearing up the floor boards, to see if this lunatic was telling the truth. Underneath the floor a gruesome corpse looked back at us, mouth open, and only one eye on his face.

“Where is his eye?” He questioned.

“I took it! I burned it! I couldn't stand it! I cant bear to even think about it! Please, don't remind of that hideous thing! And please, PLEASE get his hideous beating heart out of my head.” I looked away from the body. “Let's take him to the precinct.”

“No! NO! Please don’t, please don’t!”

“Sir, you have the right to remain silent.”

“NO!! Please!!! Let me go or I’ll kill you!!”

“Are you a madman or something?! Shut up!!”

“Ahh, you may think that I am a madman, but would a madman of taken the time to do such s thing?”

Confession Tuesday: I ate the cookie

Confession Tuesday

I ate the cookie!

A weird quirk that my mum had is an addiction to double stuf mint oreos.(I can’t judge her because I am addicted to something kind of stupid as well, but that’s a different story entirely) I always tell her not to eat them because they contain seventy calories each and the only thing she does to burn it off is open and close her laptop. The weird thing is she never gets fat.

Her constant gorging of the mint oreos (or minters as she likes to call them) started to bug me. One night the final cookie sat alone in his box, lying down in the crumbs of his past cookie roommates. However, he was not the only cookie in the freezer- there was another full, unopened box in the freezer. The good thing about that is that mum hates opening a new box because she then feels inclined to eat a lot so that they go off.

She had decided that she would only have one cookie that night- trying to be healthy (and what could be more healthy than an oreo?) Little did she know her plans were about to change. I would have to strike at the right time. This job would require skill, this precision, this job would require ninja-like reflexes. I didn’t have any of these qualities so I had to contend with the syndrome I’ve afflicted with since birth…C.C.S. otherwise known as clumsy child syndrome or commonly known as dyspraxia….Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it. That poor little cookie had no idea what it was in for.

Seven o’clock struck and mum was contently watching Entourage or True Blood or something like that. I slithered down from my seat and crawled to kitchen door not attracting attention to myself. I quickly scanned the room before clumsily rolling into the kitchen, kicking open a cupboard by accident, however mum’s eyes were still trained on the screen I learned from peeking out from behind the door.

I quietly rose to my feet and opened the freezer door. I was faced by a box of oreos. Empty except for one cookie. I removed it from the freezer and closed the door. I lifted up the plastic flap and I stared at the cookie. He stared back, asking me if I was man enough. I was man enough. I removed him from his home and placed him gingerly on my tongue. I chewed it up and swallowed, then resealing the flap, only because I knew the one thing more annoying than finding no box of oreos: finding an empty box of oreos.

For some reason, it felt so good to be so bad. Okay, maybe I wasn’t a kid that throws sticks at dogs, leaving cats in the rain or sucking down stolen wieners. I wasn’t a master thief. I liked to think of my self as a Dexter Morgan: nice on the outside a killer on the inside. All I have to is keep inner Dexter in and outer Dexter out.

(cue creepy music)

Memoir Monday 8/23/10

August 23, 2010

Memoir

Couch Potato

About six months ago I finally convinced my mum to buy Megavideo membership. For those of you who don’t know, Megavideo is a site that has free T.V. shows and movies…well free if you don’t get membership and without membership it automatically stops every 72 minutes and doesn’t let you continue watching for an hour, I eventually had enough of watching half a movie and having to stop so I finally convinced my mum to buy membership. Megavideo made everybody happy I got my movies and mum got her Dexter, True Blood and Entourage.

One day I decided to get into a new T.V. show so that I had something to do when I was bored. It was that day that pretty much changed my life for ever, I watched the first episode of Prison Break. Wow, I thought, that was pretty good. So I watched another episode, then another, then another. After five episodes my mind was completely blown. This show is awesome!!!! Then, the addiction began. Every day I would open up my laptop, load an episode and say goodbye to the family as I got ‘to work’.

“Max!” My mum called after school one night.

“What is it mum!? I’m watching prison break!”

“Come and talk to me in the kitchen please.” I wasn’t in trouble or anything like that, she just like to talk to me, I can’t blame her I am super amazingly awesome. However I had other things to do, like find out what Michael Schofield (the main character) was up to.

“I’m watching T.V.!” I shouted into the kitchen, “this is a good episode.” That’s what I would always say, despite the fact that every episode was good. The excuse still remained valid.

“Come into the kitchen,” she persisted. I reluctantly removed the headphones from my head and moved out from underneath the laptop. I walked into the kitchen and greeted mum. “How was school?’ She asked me.

Wow, really? I thought, I had been taken from Prison Break for that? For small talk? “It was good.” I responded instead of stating my thoughts.

“Good. Ready for bed?” She asked. Bed? I wanted to say, but instead I looked at my watch. 9:20 it read. Wow. I had started watching at five, now its 9:20. She had obviously read my face, “yes, its bed time you couch potato.” She laughed as she walked out of the kitchen.

Couch potato? I thought still standing in the kitchen. Well, I was sitting down watching T.V. for almost four-and-a-half. It was then I realized I was a couch potato. I was so proud of myself to reach potato status. All I have to do now is sue Prison Break to get my childhood back.