Story Time
2002-06-23 @ 6:01 p.m.

Well, Summer is boring. Or I'm boring. One. We (Alex, Abby, Karen, her Mike, Kate and Arthur, and myself) went to see Lilo and Stitch Friday. It was so bloody funny. I laughed my way through most of it, except the teary-eyed moments. It was really kind of violent for a Disney movie. No blood, but lots of alien weaponry. Cool.

Since I have relatively little to say these days, I'm going to start putting up some of my original fiction that I found cleaning out my files. Most are from my junior year creative writing class. That was so much fun, especially because of Alex, Kristin, and Jen Tarka in the corner o' insanity.

And here we go:

I was in the Salvation Army store the other day when I found an old pair of jeans called Mr. Legs. The reason I know his name is Mr. Legs is because he told me. And when a strange pair of jeans introduces itself to you, you know there's got to be something wrong with you. I thought that maybe I had drank too much Jolt, or that I shouldn't have had that Jack-In-The-Box hamburger, or maybe that insanity had finally caught up to me and I had just fallen into the deep end because I had just picked up a pair of worn and faded Salvation Army jeans and they said, "Hi! I'm Mr. Legs, but my friends call me Troy."

I just stood there stupidly for a moment and then said, "Excuse me? I'm sorry, but did you say something?" I figured that it would be best to be polite when confronted with verbal pants.

"My name is Troy Legs," He repeated. "What's your name?"

Well, there was only one thing to do. I put down the jeans and ran across the store to the appliance center.

But Mr. Legs was already there. "What's the matter?" he asked.

This time I screamed. One of the women working there came over there and asked, rather imperiously, "May I help you?"

I could only point and stammer, "T-t-t-those j-j-jeans."

She picked them up. I heard Mr. Legs squeal, but she was oblivious to the noise. "Yes, I know they're a little worn, but five dollars really is a very good deal."

"Okay," I managed, weakly. There was nothing left to do except buy the stupid talking jeans. He cheered as I put him in the front seat of my car and buckled the seat belt. "Alright," I said, "I'll take you home, but you have to promise that you won't teach my other clothes to speak." He immediately agreed.

So now I have a pair of eloquent pants living in my house, eating my food, and watching my TV. And some times I think I hear the toaster oven calling my name. I think it's time I made a donation to the Salvation Army.

Though of the Day:

I can't remember what this story came out of, but it reinforces my conviction that "pants" is the funniest word in the English language.

before ~ after

Failing Miserably - 2004-10-08
So Not Dead/Catching Up - 2004-09-20
Murphy's Law - 2,629,163,298, Sarah - 2 - 2004-08-23
Listmainia! continues - 2004-08-04
Continuing the list - 2004-08-02