I Google and Write

RANDOM PICTURE NUMBER TWO

THE VORTEX OF SWIRLING COLORS:  This picture makes me think something along the lines of "AHHHHH!  MY HEAD!  THESE NEON COLORS ARE GIVING ME A MIGRAINE THE SIZE OF AUSTRALIA!"  And it's hard to disagree with me, no?  Because what earthly being who has the misfortune to gaze upon this mistakus ofus colorus doesn't immediately think "It's like being stoned to death, except they use bright colors instead of stones, and instead of dying, I'm about to throw up, most likely on this rainbow."  Don't tell me you didn't think that.  I thought we agreed not to lie to each other.

RANDOM PICTURE NUMBER THREE

THE "HAHA, I HAVE YOUR STUFFED CAT YOU LOSER!" AD: Something similar occurred to me in sixth grade.  Catherine and I were at the bus stop one winter morning, and there was snow everywhere.The large collection of snow at the corner of the street where we wait was disgusting; splattered with dirt, Dunkin' Donuts cups, and a present from Fido.  But there was something special about this mound of snow.  WE R WHO WE R  It came in the form of a soggy stuffed bunny, carelessly tossed on the pile.  I felt really bad for it, because I have a problem, thinking that all inanimate objects have feelings.  And I'll probably regret putting this on the internet, but whatever.  In my sock drawer, my socks are lined up SINGLE LADIES very neatly, in nice, orderly rows.  And I wear them in the order I put them there, because if I don't, some poor pair of socks will probably get pushed to the back, buried beneath the other junk I keep in that drawer, and will never see the light of day (or my delightful smelling feet) ever again.  And I couldn't bear the guilt that would cause.  Anyways, Catherine and I left the stuffed bunny there for a couple days more, and when the snow had melted enough for us to climb over the snow pile, we placed it in a bush that was relatively snowless and offered it some shelter from the weather.  ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD When, a few weeks later, the bunny was still sitting in that bush, I finally did what I had known I would do from the minute I saw its forsaken little face on that fateful winter day.  I took it home with me.  My mom, understandably, was disgusted, because who in their right mind would want a used bunny that had been sitting outside for a month?  I did.  I had already developed feelings for this unloved creature, and intended to keep it, no matter the consequences.  So Mom reluctantly gave in, as long as I put it in a plastic bag for a week (to make sure if there were any ticks, they would have died) and washed it in the washing machine afterwards.  I cheerfully obliged and even checked on Hopper every day as he sat in a Target bag next to the washer/dryer.  And when 7 days had passed, I whispered encouraging words to my new friend before dropping him into JUST THE WAY YOU ARE the vat of lukewarm water to ensure our safety from the rabid rabbit plague.  I pulled him out just as the washing machine stopped, so he wouldn't have to be trapped in that metal death cage any longer than he needed to.  That twenty-five minute ride alone could have caused irrepairable damage to his psyche, I reasoned with myself.  After a more fun ride in the dryer, Hopper was finally mine!  I placed him in the place of honor next to Big Bird, Tickle Me Elmo, and Winnie the Pooh in my bedroom, bringing my stuffed animal total up to 53.  A week  later, I had forgotten about him, and the only time I even touched Hopper was to move BULLETPROOF him so I could vacuum the floor beneath his rabbit butt.  I only just donated him to Big Brother Big Sister on Friday, so I can't supply a picture, which bothers me.  I even GoogleImaged "stuffed rabbit" in the hopes of finding a bunny similar to Hopper.  But those pretty Google bunnies are nowhere near as ugly as Hopper was, may he rest in piece(s).  I donated a whole bunch of stuffed animals, actually including my money-wasting Webkinz.  And now I have to go count how many stuffed animals I have left because I really wanna know.  

HOLY GUACAMOLE! 

He's here!  Hopper is still here!  I thought he had gone with all my other meaningless stuffed animals to needy children!  Where is my webcam?!?!?!

 

BTW, I'm down to 17 stuffed animals, four dolls.  PRETTY GIRL ROCK Don't worry, I'm not that mentally unstable.

Loves,

Sarah

This is my natural picture-taking face.