Alright alright, so here's how it all went down. It was on Thursday. Mr. Walline decided he needed to waste our time further with his own moronic invention, which he has christened "free-writes". He said, and I quote, "It's called a free-write, *giggle* so you are free *giggle* to write about whatever you want." So, he posts a meaningless picture up on the crappy overhead everyday and we are supposed to write a whole page on it.
Did I take the man's statement a little too seriously? Possibly. Ah well, revel with me in the insanity.
Warning: This free-write is so awesome, there have been many reports of death, for it's inconceivable majesty is beyond which us mere mortals can fathom. Proceed with care, cation, and sunglasses (to shield your eyes from the unbearable hotness).
"What a terrible waste of time." Laura thought as she free-wrote on her tragic waste of a tree. "I could be doing something noble and worth my while, like curing cancer or watching a Cary Grant movie." She thought Cary Grant thoughts as she stared out of the window. "Oh Cary," she sighed, "they just don't make men like you anymore." She teared up at the thought. "Life should have more Cary Grants, Jude Laws, Johnny Depps, Mr. Rochesters, and just a smidgen of Marlon Brandos. But life, as great and sumptuous as it is, doesn't care about what I want. If it did, Cary Grant would still be alive, and my letter from Hogwarts would be here by now." Just as this thought entered little Laura's head, the ceiling opened up, and Cary Grant descended into Mr. Walline's dreary classroom, a broomstick in his hand and a sexy smile on his sexy face. "Sorry, darling!" he said, wrapping her in the most Cary Grant embrace she all but melted, "I would've been here sooner, but I had to track down this owl here. Turns out he confused 'Rexburg' with 'Iceberg', and has been lost in Antarctica for the past three years." He then produced a shivering owl from his coat. Upon seeing Laura, the owl gave an excited hoot and stuck out his leg. And there it was. Her letter. Laura removed the holy parcel, pleased but not at all surprised as she looked it over. "Alright then!" Cary said, mounting his broomstick. "Come, Laura! Magic waits for no one." Completely jazzed, Laura hopped onto the broomstick and sped off into the sunset, leaving her cheering muggle classmates behind her.
If I had been one of those muggle classmates, I would have been weeping in despairing jealousy.
ReplyDeleteAlso, the spell-checker on blogger doesn't recognize the word "muggle."
Fools and idiots, all of them.
(The blogger spell-checker people, I mean.)