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WHUTTA TWISTThe Effects of an Alien Invasion
A cause and effect essay by A TOTAL BUTTHEAD
Now, everything is different.
Remember your morning routine? Same thing, every day, never changing; that little fight with yourself on weather or not you were going to stay where you were for a few more minutes?; do you remember that? Our routines have changed so much, most of us don’t, and by most, I mean maybe 150 individuals. I feel like a some primitive creature. Everyone has smelled so gross for so long, I can’t smell it anymore, like it’s been divided out of my brain. Or maybe I can’t think because all the decent food is gone. One cannot live by squirrel alone.
And no, I’m not exaggerating. Everyday our most capable guys retreat off the salt flats, and we risk life and limb to hunt... squirrels. They took everything our good soil, our meaty animals, and any water that wasn’t under the ground or in the deepest crevices of the ocean. Our home has been desecrated,
this is what i do for schoolA City I Would Like to Live In
A Descriptive Essay by Me
It was a great day. The sun was shining, the heat was intense, and the sand was cool, not cool as in, well, myself, but cool as in the temperature. The sharp contrast in thermal reading between my ankles and my toes was incredible, and it felt awesome. The wind coming off the great expanse of water in front of me took some of the edge off the heat, though. It was that kind of dull blue today, totally different from the sky. Ah man, the sky today. It was the brightest blue near the horizon, and it got deeper and more mellow as it went on. I couldn't see a single cloud.
There was a light buzz in the air, just enough to be relaxing. I got that light falling feeling in my gut, totally ready to take on the day. Stage-hands and roadies were everywhere, toting amps and chords and microphones to the giant amphitheatre about quarter of a mile down the beach. It was nuts to think that I was going to play there tonight. Fans and passers bys
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More