My Poem

On a cold, gloomy day at school
I had to write a poem that wasn't so cool
It had to be 12 lines long
I thought that was so wrong
I want to watch my movie
But this poem is such a doozie
I can't think because it's so loud
I wish people would hush their mouths
As I'm nearing the end of this writing
I remembered something so frightening
This writing counts a TEST grade
But oh well, I'm through

My Band

It's all about the piggies who want to go out for pizza By: Gunning For A Bad Book

10 Reasons I Love Spring

10. It gets warmer
9. Closer to summer!
8. Spring Break
7. No more TAKS
6. The weather is better
5. Storms
4. Park Time
3.Track
2. Spring
1. GRADUATION

Through The Eyes Of A Dog

I was walking through an alley when I saw a chipmunk sitting in the middle of the pathway. Since my thought process is very very short I just started running towards it barking wildly. It took off towards a wooden fence and just stayed on top of it. As I was there just jumping up and down like a dummy, I could tell that the chipmunk was snickering at me because it kept throwing acorns at me. It started to play with me, like when I would start to walk away it would come down from the fence and kick me in the behind and I would turn around and start chasing it again. It got back on the fence and started laughing at me again and throwing acorns at me. So I turned back around and saw a big red dog go down the street so i started chasing it and never saw the chipmunk again.

The End

Human Interest Story

The whole house was sick with the flu and my husband was the worst off. He had gone up to bed at 8 pm, feverish and shivering. I felt pretty bad myself and had fallen into a heavy sleep not much later. It was at about quarter to two when suddenly I heard, "Wake up... honey...wake up," he said shaking my shoulder repeatedly.

"Huh? What?" I awoke groggy, panicked and fearing the worst. This was one of those moments that a split second felt like an eternity and thoughts of death, doom and destruction flickered through my head like a crazed firefly.

"There’s...a…a," he started.

"WHAT? WHAT?" I screamed in my head waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why was it people always give you bad news slowly, I anguished.

"A...possum... playing...the...piano," he said very quietly, apparently trying not to wake the kids. I stared blankly at his face like I had just been called upon in school. I let the words sink into my brain.

"Oh cripes," I thought. He’s delirious with fever.

Not liking my lack of response, he said it again, this time more insistently. "COME ON! He’s playing the piano downstairs!" Now I was truly getting scared. I wondered if I should take him to the emergency room. I would have to wake the kids and get them dressed. It was chilly outside. How could I explain to the doctors that his thinking isn’t REALLY that confused, I mean living with a rehabilitator and all. The bathroom light was on and I could see he looked pitiful, all pasty white and hair disheveled. Still I stared at him and said nothing. I was making plans in my head for the imminent car ride.

"Didn’t you hear him?" he questioned.

"WHAT?" I snapped, now annoyed with his obvious lack of cold medication or too much thereof.

"I’m not kidding, come on hurry up!" he said seriously and left the room. I fumbled for my glasses and negotiated the stairs at a rapid pace after him. I was afraid he would fall down the stairs or something. But there he stood at the base pointing. I scanned the living room. There it was. One opossum caught red-handed standing posed on our piano keys. A piano possum of sorts. My husband stood there silently reveling in his sanity. As my mind raced through the animal database of current residents; hawk, mouse, opossum, I found what I was looking for. "Uh Oh," I thought, "One must have gotten
through the window." Presently there were six going through boot camp in a large outdoor cage right outside our living room, as they were preparing for release to the outdoors in the next couple of weeks.

How the heck could one get in here?

I wondered to myself if I was going to find a broken window or a hole chewed through the wall somehow. Instead of doing anything useful, I burst into a hysterical fit of laughter and said, "Where’s my camera?" I have to take a picture of this, people think I make this stuff up. I left the room quickly to retrieve a camera. I didn’t know how the little beast could have gotten in here and said so out loud. I was thinking that this would help reduce blame later, when someone (I really don’t like to mention any names) was feeling better and would be irritated with the fact that there was actually an opossum playing our piano. "Don’t you have more downstairs," he asked. It was then I realized that the opossum standing on my piano was not one from outside,
but one of three new recruits that had been admitted for round two of boot camp. This was not good. I grabbed the one off the piano as he made an attempt to drop off the end and I ran down the stairs to the basement. There I nearly tripped over another one. He hissed at me and I grabbed him by the back of the tail and in a swooping action swung him to my sweatshirt-covered arm. I put them both back into their hutch; the hutch I had not flipped the slide lock all the way down on. There was one still AWOL. I made a valiant search until laughter once again hit me. My face contorted from uncontrollable laughter, fit for a person near hysteria. Tears had filled my eyes and my sides hurt, which put a stop to my search. I made my way back upstairs, scouring the way for the missing one as I went. I made my way
back to the couch where my husband had made up his bed.

"Did you find the other ones," he demanded.

"No, only one," I sighed.

"Freaking Beethoven," he muttered. With that, I then broke again into such an uncontrollable fit, that I could barely speak the words, "Don’t you see the humor in this?"

"No, all I see is an opossum on the piano," he said calmly.

"Come on, this IS funny, I thought you had broken into a horrible fever and were hallucinating or something!"

At that thought he admitted a slight grin and shrugged, "Actually, he was playing the scales pretty good. He obviously was either enjoying himself or couldn’t get down because he was going back and forth and woke me up. I thought it was the stupid cat."

Oh man, I had forgotten about the cat. I went back downstairs and put out a trap plate of food to save Mr. AWOL from becoming a meal. Sure enough, within 20 minutes the last little bugger came out for grub. As I replaced him with the others, Billy Joel as I now dubbed him, he put his chubby little opossum fingers in the way of the door. "Careful there piano man, I warned, or you’ll never play piano again!"

18 reasons why your thankful for your parents

1.House
2.Food
3.Clothes
4.Phone
5.Truck
6.Gas
7.Money
8.Shoes
9.Classes
10.Changed my diapers
11.Birthed me
12.Education
13.Took care of me when sick
14.Took me to doctor
15.Gave me medicine
16. Gets me mcdonalds
17.Gets me united burgers
18. my 18th birthday.

1.good student
2.respectful to others
3.always says I love you
4.he can bathe himself
5.will be moving away soooon