Aww.

Twitter isn't working and I accidentally screwed my tumblr up, so I'm here. THE FUCKING WANTED ARE COMING TO SINGAPORE. OMFG.

Dreams, Golf Balls and Useless Apologies.

Golf Balls, Trees and Bad Jokes.

 “Dang it!!” The golfer shouted. “Like I’m thrilled.” His silly golf ball came flying towards me and hit me right smack in the face. I heard it whisper a small “Sorry.” Before he bounced off me and plopped into the pond.  Lansy, a maple, rustled her leaves, asking me if I was okay. “I’m fine, thanks.” I replied. That, of course was a lie. How would you feel if a 0.0459kg lump of plastic hit you in the face?? These silly golfers are gonna make me age faster. “Hey, why did the golfer wear three pairs of pants?” “Why?” “In case he got a hole-in-one!!” HAHAHAHA. These humans tell terrible jokes.

        

Weeds, Ponds and Useless Apologies.

The metal of the sand wedge struck me and sent me flying towards this oak tree that was glaring at me. My butt was aching from being hit by the golf club, but what I was more worried about was slamming into the tree. Plus there was a pond nearby. Sorry tree. Oh dear God, brace yourselves. BAM!!! I bounced off the tree and flew towards the weedy pond. OH NO. Plop. Can’t…breathe…. Silly golfers…

Dreams, Literal Meanings and Scrooges.

“In case he got a hole-in-one!!” “That joke was so good I literally pissed myself!!” You mean you have a big yellow urine stain on your pants right now?? These rich nothing-better-to-do folks are…sigh. I hate being a caddy. I wish I could do something epic, something unforgettable. Lugging a bag of metal plasticky flag-shaped things for someone is not very great or unforgettable. “Caddy, go fetch my ball.”

You mean you have enough money to sign up for a $1000 one-year membership with a country club but you can’t afford one or two golf balls?? Oh, I wish…

I WANT TO FLY, LIKE A ROCKET TO THE SKY.

The Life of A Desk

My eyes fluttered open. What time was it? The lights were on, and the wall clock showed 6.30. I saw a girl, dressed in their usual uniform with her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, plop her bag down on the floor and sit in her chair in the desk next to me. Around 7, all of the seats were filled except one. The girl that sits there must be sick or something, I guess Annie got off easy.

The day went on, with the girls taking their lessons, writing on us, and occasionally chatting with the girl next to them, without knowing we could hear them. HAH. The bell rang; it was time for recess! C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-I-O-N. That was when Joanna, the girl that occupied me, put her bag on me to find her lunchbox. Who in their right mind would make their bag so heavy?! I wonder how some of the chairs take it; they must go to the gym or something.

A few hours later, the bell rang again, signalling the end of school. The students packed their bags and filed out of the classroom. The teacher flicked the light switch off, now it is time to rest…