School school! Technically, I have 7 classes now. Okay......time to do this! and 3 whole school years stuffed into 2 months. Holy crap..let's do this! x.x
So I've snuck home my packet of assignments and I shall be buddies with le copier machine. :) Hehe...french makes a lot of things sound more wannabe sophisticated. :3.....Kinda..x3
Okay...going back to work now. :)
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Chickenscratch #11
What I think went down.....anyways...it's corny...but...whatever...I'm not really in the mood to really be creative or care all that much to be quite honest.
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“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m looken fer Vanny~”
“What the hell…ARE YOU DRUNK?!”
“Shhhhh, don’t tell Vanny.”
“You dummy face. Get up,” she said as she tried to get him on his feet. Problem with being 50 lbs lighter than him wasn’t really helping. Thank god the building had a
working elevator.
“Doyah know if Vanny’s home?”
“I’m not speaking to you,” she snapped.
“Wowzers, what er angry, pretty girly.”
“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, dummy.”
“Whu?”
“Oh dear god…how drunk are you? Where did you go?”
“I wen daaaancen. Vanny wasn’t there tho.”
“You don’t dance. What does that matter? Weren’t you with your friends?”
“Howdya know? Yer muz beh psychic or sumtin…”
“Yeah yeah.”
“Where we goin? Are you taken meh to Vanny?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Oh! Yay! Thanks! I needer tell her sumtin.”
“Tell her what? That you’re drank yourself stupid?”
“Hahaha, pretty girly is funny.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
“Wanna kner a seeeeeecret?”
“That you’re secretly a high school girl at heart? Because you talk like one.”
“So angry….haha, but nooooooo, I needer tell Vanny that I love her.”
“You were going to tell her at 3 in the morning that you love her?”
“It’s not brother looove. She doesn’t kner. I looooooove her.”
This whole time…she was helping him in the elevator and dragging her to her apartment, but after that she stopped and stared at him. ……what?
---------------------
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m looken fer Vanny~”
“What the hell…ARE YOU DRUNK?!”
“Shhhhh, don’t tell Vanny.”
“You dummy face. Get up,” she said as she tried to get him on his feet. Problem with being 50 lbs lighter than him wasn’t really helping. Thank god the building had a
working elevator.
“Doyah know if Vanny’s home?”
“I’m not speaking to you,” she snapped.
“Wowzers, what er angry, pretty girly.”
“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, dummy.”
“Whu?”
“Oh dear god…how drunk are you? Where did you go?”
“I wen daaaancen. Vanny wasn’t there tho.”
“You don’t dance. What does that matter? Weren’t you with your friends?”
“Howdya know? Yer muz beh psychic or sumtin…”
“Yeah yeah.”
“Where we goin? Are you taken meh to Vanny?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Oh! Yay! Thanks! I needer tell her sumtin.”
“Tell her what? That you’re drank yourself stupid?”
“Hahaha, pretty girly is funny.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
“Wanna kner a seeeeeecret?”
“That you’re secretly a high school girl at heart? Because you talk like one.”
“So angry….haha, but nooooooo, I needer tell Vanny that I love her.”
“You were going to tell her at 3 in the morning that you love her?”
“It’s not brother looove. She doesn’t kner. I looooooove her.”
This whole time…she was helping him in the elevator and dragging her to her apartment, but after that she stopped and stared at him. ……what?
Chickenscratch #10
So.....darn...corny. Ew.....what a dumb dream.
---------
He woke up groggy and with a horrible headache. Groaning with muffled strings of incomprehensible profanity, he rolled over onto a rather large lump that gave off a surprised squeal. He quickly retreated by jolting up to a sitting position and instantly regretted it. What a bitch of a headache. But besides that…
“What..time is it..” an equally groggy voice asked innocently. He froze recognizing the voice. No.
“Vanessa?”
“Ugh….Steven, you jerk…it’s 8 in the morning on a Sunday,” she spun around annoyed and her long hair twirled around her face and covered one of her accusing eyes. His heart stopped. Did they? Her hard glare immediately disappeared when she saw that the look that he gave her was one of incredible panic and distraught. “Hey, hey, I was joking,” she recovered quickly, “You okay?” When he was just speechless, she gently patted his messy chestnut hair. “I’ll be right back with water and eggs. Jesus Christ, you look like hell.” She disappeared and he noted that she was wearing her old high school shorts and a light blue tank. So…maybe they didn’t.
What happened anyway…..he tried to think back, but all he could think of was going to a club..and getting ridiculously drunk with his pals and then leaving totally wasted headed straight for Vanessa’s apartment. Did he even make it? Wait….he remembered muttering something and she had to throw him off of her, which wasn’t a problem. Her figure may have been what many of their friends said was just a stick, but she definitely wasn’t weak. Muttering….muttering what? What did he say? Steven tried to head to the bathroom, but ended up tripping over something and slamming head first into the door. There were hurried footsteps heard as he rubbing his head.
“Jesus!” he heard Vanessa cry out and came to help him get up and help him to the toilet. She politely sat him down upon the seat and left, waiting outside. When she heard the flushing sound and the sink go on and off, she opened the door again and was about to help him to the bed, but he smacked her hand away.
“I can do it,” he snapped.
“Suck it up, Mr. Faceplant,” she demanded and he didn’t argue anymore. After she got him back to the bed, she ran back to the kitchen and returned about five minutes later. The eggs were slightly burnt. After eating his makeshift breakfast, she diligently took the tray and started to head back out.
“Hey,” she turned to him, “What happened yesterday?” She frowned slightly.
“You came here and apparently someone reported you to the building manager that some dumbass was passed out in front of the building and I got curious so I looked outside and saw that it was you, so I dragged you in. It was 3 in the goddamn morning, so I had to strip you down to your boxers and go put the rest of your stupid clothes in the dryer. Fucking idiot…why were you sprawled across the damn sidewalk in 30 degree weather? Anyway, you just slept.”
“Did I say anything?”
“No, why?”
“I was wondering if I said anything stupid.”
“No, but you looked pretty damn stupid.” He cringed and her look softened, “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up later.” He shrugged as she left the room. He didn’t notice that she had held the tray a little tighter when he had asked if he had say anything. When she was washing the plate and cup, the frown crawled back onto her face as she remembered very clearly that he had told her that he loved her.
---------
He woke up groggy and with a horrible headache. Groaning with muffled strings of incomprehensible profanity, he rolled over onto a rather large lump that gave off a surprised squeal. He quickly retreated by jolting up to a sitting position and instantly regretted it. What a bitch of a headache. But besides that…
“What..time is it..” an equally groggy voice asked innocently. He froze recognizing the voice. No.
“Vanessa?”
“Ugh….Steven, you jerk…it’s 8 in the morning on a Sunday,” she spun around annoyed and her long hair twirled around her face and covered one of her accusing eyes. His heart stopped. Did they? Her hard glare immediately disappeared when she saw that the look that he gave her was one of incredible panic and distraught. “Hey, hey, I was joking,” she recovered quickly, “You okay?” When he was just speechless, she gently patted his messy chestnut hair. “I’ll be right back with water and eggs. Jesus Christ, you look like hell.” She disappeared and he noted that she was wearing her old high school shorts and a light blue tank. So…maybe they didn’t.
What happened anyway…..he tried to think back, but all he could think of was going to a club..and getting ridiculously drunk with his pals and then leaving totally wasted headed straight for Vanessa’s apartment. Did he even make it? Wait….he remembered muttering something and she had to throw him off of her, which wasn’t a problem. Her figure may have been what many of their friends said was just a stick, but she definitely wasn’t weak. Muttering….muttering what? What did he say? Steven tried to head to the bathroom, but ended up tripping over something and slamming head first into the door. There were hurried footsteps heard as he rubbing his head.
“Jesus!” he heard Vanessa cry out and came to help him get up and help him to the toilet. She politely sat him down upon the seat and left, waiting outside. When she heard the flushing sound and the sink go on and off, she opened the door again and was about to help him to the bed, but he smacked her hand away.
“I can do it,” he snapped.
“Suck it up, Mr. Faceplant,” she demanded and he didn’t argue anymore. After she got him back to the bed, she ran back to the kitchen and returned about five minutes later. The eggs were slightly burnt. After eating his makeshift breakfast, she diligently took the tray and started to head back out.
“Hey,” she turned to him, “What happened yesterday?” She frowned slightly.
“You came here and apparently someone reported you to the building manager that some dumbass was passed out in front of the building and I got curious so I looked outside and saw that it was you, so I dragged you in. It was 3 in the goddamn morning, so I had to strip you down to your boxers and go put the rest of your stupid clothes in the dryer. Fucking idiot…why were you sprawled across the damn sidewalk in 30 degree weather? Anyway, you just slept.”
“Did I say anything?”
“No, why?”
“I was wondering if I said anything stupid.”
“No, but you looked pretty damn stupid.” He cringed and her look softened, “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up later.” He shrugged as she left the room. He didn’t notice that she had held the tray a little tighter when he had asked if he had say anything. When she was washing the plate and cup, the frown crawled back onto her face as she remembered very clearly that he had told her that he loved her.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Chickenscratch #9
He was going to have to suck it up and figure out how to apologize to her. It wasn’t that she was such an unforgiving person. It was just that he knew she was one of those “optional” friends. She could live without him quite easily and he knew it. Maybe she’d think about him from time to time if something reminded her of him, but besides that, she rarely did anything about it besides the little messages wishing him a good day in the morning from time to time.
Sighing deeply in defeat, he played the staring game with his cell phone that was lying mockingly upon the coffee table. Sighing again, he snatched the phone off the table and dialed. There wasn’t really a need to look it up in his contacts because they had so frequently called each other to hang out. Neither was it really a need to make her his speed dial because that would’ve made her seem way too important. At least….it would seem like that.
“Hey!"
“Hey, it’s m-”
“I’m not here right now. Leave a message after the beepity!”
Beepity?.....Really? It was just like her…but…really?
“Hey it’s me! Just wondering if you’re free on Wednesday. Call me back,” satisfied, he turned on ESPN to watch the remainder of the Laker game.
Ding dong!
What..the.. did she get the message and rush over? Heh, maybe be wasn’t so optional after all. Smirking, he strode over to the door and someone barreled into him.
“Oof! What the f-”
“Thiss..is torolly all your faull you asshole.”
“What..the..fuck, Stephanie?”
Stephanie was the ex-girlfriend. The needy one, adding on top of that was a very curved body with C sized breasts, so obviously any guy who was straight would consider it and attempt to zone out her chatty personality.
“Iz yore faull that I’m like diss.”
“Go home, Stephanie. Get off.”
“You mezzed me up.”
“Stephanie, GO HOME!” He was trying to pry her off of him, but she was latched on so tightly to his waist that they fell over.
“I like it like diss,” she slurred and gave him a half-lidded smile. He crinkled his nose in disgust.
“WHAT THE HELL!” They both turned. The door was still gapingly open and so was the mouth of Vanessa as she stood there. Her bag slung over her shoulder and a box of Thin Mints sticking out of her bag, his favorite. Her lips then formed a thin angry line as his eyes widened in surprise.
“Wha are you doing here?” Stephanie angrily slurred. He took advantage of her distraction and successfully shoved her off. Vanessa tossed her bag to the side and he watched as the box fell out as she strode over to grab the drunk girl by the hair to drag her face to level with hers.
“If you ever come near him again, I will kill you,” she angrily sneered. Her trapped victim, withered and squirmed as she gave out a stream of pained yelps. Promptly, Vanessa threw her out of the apartment, head first into the hallway, not really caring how she would land. She slammed the door as Stephanie collapsed onto the carpeted ground, and then stalked over to her flabbergasted audience’s phone. Quickly, she dialed and he listened as she coldly spoke to the building manager, reporting a drunk nuisance on the 7th floor.
Afterwards, she turned up the TV and swiftly sat down upon the white leather couch. Confused, Vanessa looked over to Steven who was still on the floor. “Aren’t you going to watch the game?”
“Why…why are you here?”
“It’s Tuesday. You asked me if I wanted to watch the Laker game with you, since my TV broke. I brought over Thin Mints. You can have it. My coworker gave some boxes to me.” He didn’t really hear anything after “you asked me…” but it didn’t really matter anyway. He smiled and grabbed the box of cookies along with her bag to the couch. Affectionately, he pecked her forehead and ruffled her hair. She whined playfully before smacking a pillow across his stomach.
Yep, some things never changed. He could never think that enough.
Sighing deeply in defeat, he played the staring game with his cell phone that was lying mockingly upon the coffee table. Sighing again, he snatched the phone off the table and dialed. There wasn’t really a need to look it up in his contacts because they had so frequently called each other to hang out. Neither was it really a need to make her his speed dial because that would’ve made her seem way too important. At least….it would seem like that.
“Hey!"
“Hey, it’s m-”
“I’m not here right now. Leave a message after the beepity!”
Beepity?.....Really? It was just like her…but…really?
“Hey it’s me! Just wondering if you’re free on Wednesday. Call me back,” satisfied, he turned on ESPN to watch the remainder of the Laker game.
Ding dong!
What..the.. did she get the message and rush over? Heh, maybe be wasn’t so optional after all. Smirking, he strode over to the door and someone barreled into him.
“Oof! What the f-”
“Thiss..is torolly all your faull you asshole.”
“What..the..fuck, Stephanie?”
Stephanie was the ex-girlfriend. The needy one, adding on top of that was a very curved body with C sized breasts, so obviously any guy who was straight would consider it and attempt to zone out her chatty personality.
“Iz yore faull that I’m like diss.”
“Go home, Stephanie. Get off.”
“You mezzed me up.”
“Stephanie, GO HOME!” He was trying to pry her off of him, but she was latched on so tightly to his waist that they fell over.
“I like it like diss,” she slurred and gave him a half-lidded smile. He crinkled his nose in disgust.
“WHAT THE HELL!” They both turned. The door was still gapingly open and so was the mouth of Vanessa as she stood there. Her bag slung over her shoulder and a box of Thin Mints sticking out of her bag, his favorite. Her lips then formed a thin angry line as his eyes widened in surprise.
“Wha are you doing here?” Stephanie angrily slurred. He took advantage of her distraction and successfully shoved her off. Vanessa tossed her bag to the side and he watched as the box fell out as she strode over to grab the drunk girl by the hair to drag her face to level with hers.
“If you ever come near him again, I will kill you,” she angrily sneered. Her trapped victim, withered and squirmed as she gave out a stream of pained yelps. Promptly, Vanessa threw her out of the apartment, head first into the hallway, not really caring how she would land. She slammed the door as Stephanie collapsed onto the carpeted ground, and then stalked over to her flabbergasted audience’s phone. Quickly, she dialed and he listened as she coldly spoke to the building manager, reporting a drunk nuisance on the 7th floor.
Afterwards, she turned up the TV and swiftly sat down upon the white leather couch. Confused, Vanessa looked over to Steven who was still on the floor. “Aren’t you going to watch the game?”
“Why…why are you here?”
“It’s Tuesday. You asked me if I wanted to watch the Laker game with you, since my TV broke. I brought over Thin Mints. You can have it. My coworker gave some boxes to me.” He didn’t really hear anything after “you asked me…” but it didn’t really matter anyway. He smiled and grabbed the box of cookies along with her bag to the couch. Affectionately, he pecked her forehead and ruffled her hair. She whined playfully before smacking a pillow across his stomach.
Yep, some things never changed. He could never think that enough.
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