The Boy Who Cried Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis
It was a warm spring Saturday, bright and sunny in a small Massachusetts town. All of the children were playing in the streets, with the sole exception of one boy who lived in the center of town. 15-year-old Timmy was hidden away in his bedroom as he usually was on weekends, busily typing away at his computer. He had no real friends to speak of, so he had no reason to be outside, and besides, he would much rather do research on his computer than play some foolish game with the other ignorant children.
This research that he claimed he did every weekend worried his paren
Chapter I: Voices
The sun glared down at the sidewalk on a deceptively chilly December morning. Dan futilely raised his arm to block the light, as it simply reflected off of the cracking ground and into his retinas. A chill ran down his spine; this would not be a good day. The relative darkness of the looming high school seeming eerily inviting in spite of the boredom and solitude it would inevitably bring.
Impossibly loud screaming ripped straight through his eardrums and rattled in his skull as he opened the large metal doors and proceeded down the halls to the computer lab in the corner of the building. Maybe star
Chapter 4
Not Much Important Happens To Me
We sailed on after Danilos elusive ship, desperately trying to find our missing captain. Darn it, Sam, whyd you hafta go and get captured? To make matters considerably worse, we had no idea where in the world where they were, never mind where we were, and our ship was still badly damaged. Great.
Someone (probably me) had the great idea of going to Tortuga; there, we could repair the ship, relax a little, and maybe even find Sam. Or at least get drunk. The whole crew decided that that would be perfect, so we turned our ship towards Tortuga and sailed faster than we ever h
Chapter 3
Big Pirate Fight!
Okay, we were pirates, but no real pirating and other piratey stuff was going on. There were no merchant ships to plunder, ports to raid, and Joe was drinking all of our rum. It was quite boring. But not really. Just kind of. Y'know.
There were quite a few things going on, actually, just not what you'd expect. Mostly "emotional-captain-and-her-first-mate" stuff. Stuff that I had no part in. Stuff that made me feel left out. In fact, no one really seemed to notice me that much. I was forced to spend all my time navigating a huge ocean that looked exactly the same from every angle no matter how
This is the sad story of a lonely can of trash. Said trash can (as it will hereby be known) was placed in the desolate corner of an empty house, which had been abandoned approximately three years the previous. Therefore, trash can had not nor could not see anything that was even remotely interesting, though the term "interesting" can be defined differently by any individual, so I assume it would be more appropriate to say that it "could not see anything that even remotely spurred any of its own personal interests. Anyway, this lonely trash can... eh, screw this...
...hehe, duty...
The Stapler That Knew Too Much by Frogurt, literature
Literature
The Stapler That Knew Too Much
"I don't remember THAT being there before," he quietly commented to himself, looking about his desk. That was because he had no short-term memory, or any memory at all, for he was but a simple stapler, not capable of any thought for that matter.
Oh dear, I've already ruined the entire story. Two little sentences and BAM, story gone, nowhere left to go. This fiction stuff is really hard, you know. You can't just pick up a random writing utensil and create a masterpiece. You have to pour your soul out onto a piece of paper and hope that people approve of you and what you have made. I can't believe this is already messed up to such an ext
Yep. That's right. Part II. I'M ACTUALLY WRITING IT. Hehe, I can see all your jaws dropping. All 6 of you. I still can't believe that you liked my first one. Wow. Brazil is big.
Sorry, I'll start the story now. Let's see… I left off with… aha! Okay, here we go for real this time…
Stapler awoke, grumpy as usual. He didn't seem to ever be anything but mad to those around him. As you know, he was very solitary, and no one ever crossed him, and he was glad. No, wait, he was mad. Hmm…
Anyways, it had been two weeks since anyone had seen him. The so-called "Paperclip" really irked him, and he had to do something. A voice in his h
wow, it's been an awful long time since i've updated this. i'm not sure why, but i had a sudden urge to write one o' these for the three or so of you who care to read them. good for you.
well, i'm done school for the year. woo. everything went just fine, with alarmingly large amounts of free time. though, i can honestly say that my first year of college has barely impacted my life in any way. and i'm just fine with that. :p
um... i really can't think of much else to say. maybe i should do some new art. i need new art. suggestions are beyond welcome. suggest me some art.
it has just come to my attention that there was a minor typo in this journal entry, so naturally, i fixed it and alerted you all. sorry!
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well now, it's been WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too long since i last updated this, so here we go! i have a buncha-muncha-cruncha surveys to take (literally), so i might as well get them all over with at once. this is going to be one massive journal entry. and you will read it all in one sitting! M
wow, it's been nearly 10 weeks since i updated this thing! that's just crazy! not a single entry in february or march... well, just to catch up quickly, i was sick in february and my birthday was in march. that is all. but you already knew that. i think. whatever.
i'm gonna try to write more of my pirate stuff soon, so expect a buncha-muncha-cruncha writings by me. and also prepare to be disappointed probably as i give up halfway through. or not. don't ask me what you should feel. i don't know.
i'm having trouble thinking straight... i can't really focus...
i guess i'll just update this later. i hafta do a stupid survey thing