How can a simple mundane donut be terrifying? There are things that must be considered when one thinks on the subject of donuts. The worst part about donuts that i find is that they can destroy friendships. I've seen good friends turn a hateful eye on one another when a donut crisis struck. A few friends and I had had just gone to Krispy Kreme several years ago, and we bought three dozen donuts (we split the costs, and we were hungry ok?) Between the four of us, we had already agreed to split our three dozen evenly: nine each. However my friend, Justin, was extra hungry and had other plans. Ryan, our driver for the day, had to use the restroom. He had only eaten eight of his donuts. I was finishing my ninth and our other friend had finished his already. While we were all distracted chatting with each other, Justin slipped his hand into the inviting, pale green Krispy Kreme box searching for the final donut. What he didn't expect was Ryan's cunning. You see, he hadn't really gone to the restroom; Ryan had noticed Justin eyeing his last donut, and decided to see just how far he planned to go.
Obviously this was too far. Leaping from around the corner he was spying behind, Ryan bellowed his accusations at Justin of trying to rob him of the last donut. Caught in the act and outnumbered, as we were on Ryan's side, Justin did the only thing his lean and thin frame would allow: he took off out the door donut in hand. Ryan gave chase. At first I laughed, but then I saw that this was indeed a grave matter. If Justin was caught, I may just be down by one friend. I had to pounce on Ryan out in the parking lot; I couldn't let his monumental anger rob me of a good friend. I pinned him to the ground, and eventually saw the red tint fade from his eyes. We talked him down, but had all learned a valuable lesson: friends don't let friends steal donuts. Oh, and in case you were wondering about the fourth friend, he didn't really take part. Don't worry about it.
Now aside from that extended, but very important metaphor, there are other reasons that donuts should be hated. First and certainly foremost, donut can mean a replacement car tire, as well as a delicious, glazed bread. That's downright confusing. If speaking with someone who knows cars well, they may be skeptical when told "I bought a box of donuts yesterday." They may think you bough a box of tires! Next, they're unhealthy. Obviously I'm not a stickler for health- you can tell just by looking at me- but I still feel that if someones going to be overweight, at least do it by eating too much healthy food. Plus, donuts make for the most excruciatingly painful commercials. They just look so...delicious. It's difficult to resist, those commercials make even me want to run down to the local Kroger bakery and buy some. However, they draw in those who are faint of spirit. Donuts are a food that capitalize on people's most deep desires, and that's for extra sweet foods. Now I would hate to bore you, and I feel that I've gone on for a bit too long. Down with the donuts, don't give in!
I deleted the questions I originally had throughout the paper. They made it seem more rant-like, but overall I think they slowed the flow of the paper down. I added in the part about the tires. I thought going on that tangent might make it seem a bit more crazy, which is kind of what i was going for. I substituted a few descriptive adjectives for better, more accurate ones. The message and clarity are about the same, the only difference now is that a few words and phrases have been changed.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
You shan't have the other half!
http://www.time.com/time/picturesoftheweek/0,29409,1960330_2043316,00.html
In our small community, we were having some issues.
We live in the middle of a giant city, but we are not part of it. We didn't have to pay for power or water, we merely obtained our own. It was a fine agreement really. Our community inside the city consisted of folks who couldn't deal with the city life, yet didn't have enough money to move out. We were never bothered really, no one understood why there was a small, isolated area inside the town, and apparently none of them wanted to bother finding out. So, things went well for a few years, until one day a member of our community had the revolutionary idea of stealing the city's power.
Well, the rest of us weren't interested. However, this guy was smart, and had read numerous books considering the prospects of energy. He decided to reroute s power line so that it ran into his own home (don't ask me how he did it, I have no idea.) He started using modern technology, such as refrigerators and computers. The idea never caught on though, because as soon as the city realized we were stealing their power, they declared war an bombed our city until there was nothing left.
But there was something left (or half of something for that matter). My house, being the sturdiest and most newly built in the community, was still standing. As the demolition crews drove their trucks and equipment in, I let out a blood curdling war cry and threw myself off the second floor onto a guy standing dumbfounded at the bottom. The rest of the crew backed away immediately, but after a few moments hurled themselves at me, trying their hardest to bring me down. I fought them off groups at a time, swinging, thrashing, yelling and occasionally biting to get them off of me. But there were too many.
Now as I lay here in my final moments, I happened to find a convenient pen and paper lying next to my defeated body. I had to write about the events that took place here. This is our story, may you never forget. Farewell...
In our small community, we were having some issues.
We live in the middle of a giant city, but we are not part of it. We didn't have to pay for power or water, we merely obtained our own. It was a fine agreement really. Our community inside the city consisted of folks who couldn't deal with the city life, yet didn't have enough money to move out. We were never bothered really, no one understood why there was a small, isolated area inside the town, and apparently none of them wanted to bother finding out. So, things went well for a few years, until one day a member of our community had the revolutionary idea of stealing the city's power.
Well, the rest of us weren't interested. However, this guy was smart, and had read numerous books considering the prospects of energy. He decided to reroute s power line so that it ran into his own home (don't ask me how he did it, I have no idea.) He started using modern technology, such as refrigerators and computers. The idea never caught on though, because as soon as the city realized we were stealing their power, they declared war an bombed our city until there was nothing left.
But there was something left (or half of something for that matter). My house, being the sturdiest and most newly built in the community, was still standing. As the demolition crews drove their trucks and equipment in, I let out a blood curdling war cry and threw myself off the second floor onto a guy standing dumbfounded at the bottom. The rest of the crew backed away immediately, but after a few moments hurled themselves at me, trying their hardest to bring me down. I fought them off groups at a time, swinging, thrashing, yelling and occasionally biting to get them off of me. But there were too many.
Now as I lay here in my final moments, I happened to find a convenient pen and paper lying next to my defeated body. I had to write about the events that took place here. This is our story, may you never forget. Farewell...
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
What in the World Am I Talking About?
Hell if I know, but I'll do my best to collect my thoughts into coherent words for a quick blog assignment.
Something that I love talking about is history, so I think I'll go with that one. I've read numerous history textbooks cover to cover (I'm weird ok? Lay off) and I'll tell you I never got bored. For whatever reason, friends always complain to me about how history is THAT class, you know the one, where you walk in and are instantly tired, even though you just drank a red bull and got 9 hours of sleep the night before? We've all had them. But yeah, THAT class. And I can't understand why, everything in history is just fascinating. I think it's one of the most enlightening things, to make those sorts of connections back 300 years. You probably don't know what I'm talking about, so I'll give you an example. Ever wonder why all of South America speaks Spanish, but for some obscure reason in Brazil they speak Portuguese? Well, I doubt you may have wondered about that, because who really cares right? But I wondered, and it turns out that back when the New World had just been discovered, and the Pope was still the de facto ruler of all Europe, the Spanish and Portuguese were the leaders in exploration. They both started trying to claim the same lands in the Americas, and something had to be done to prevent war from breaking out. Other European nations probably could've cared less, but the Pope couldn't have Catholic nations spilling each others blood, so he drew an imaginary line on a map, splitting the New World in half. Now mind you, they had no clue back then just how large America was, so they gave Spain everything west of this imaginary line, and Portugal everything east of it. They both went about their colonizing, and Spain was quite pleased with the amount of land they soon discovered. At this point, most of North America and 97 percent of South America was controlled by the Spanish, but as it turns out, the imaginary line had been unknowingly drawn directly on the tip of Today's Brazil. So the Portuguese claimed it as quickly as they could, and established their colony there. Due to the large amount of rainforest in the Brazil area, the Spanish never did find out about this small Portuguese settlement. It wasn't until the Spanish got involved in numerous wars and financial troubles that the Portuguese decided to expand, and turned their colony into the largest in South America. The rest, as they say, is history.
So that's why Brazil speaks Portuguese amid the multitude of Spanish speaking countries! I hope you learned something today, and I sincerely hope I didn't bore you to death. Wouldn't want that kind of weight on my chest. Yes, I know this wasn't really the main point of my blog to begin with, but just think of it as a really extended example to prove my point: history is fun! So if your reading this, try to stay awake through history tomorrow. If you happen to be Mrs. Giddens and don't have a history class, just keep teaching English. It might not be quite as exciting as history, but I try my best to enjoy it.
Sincerely,
~Deranged Student
Something that I love talking about is history, so I think I'll go with that one. I've read numerous history textbooks cover to cover (I'm weird ok? Lay off) and I'll tell you I never got bored. For whatever reason, friends always complain to me about how history is THAT class, you know the one, where you walk in and are instantly tired, even though you just drank a red bull and got 9 hours of sleep the night before? We've all had them. But yeah, THAT class. And I can't understand why, everything in history is just fascinating. I think it's one of the most enlightening things, to make those sorts of connections back 300 years. You probably don't know what I'm talking about, so I'll give you an example. Ever wonder why all of South America speaks Spanish, but for some obscure reason in Brazil they speak Portuguese? Well, I doubt you may have wondered about that, because who really cares right? But I wondered, and it turns out that back when the New World had just been discovered, and the Pope was still the de facto ruler of all Europe, the Spanish and Portuguese were the leaders in exploration. They both started trying to claim the same lands in the Americas, and something had to be done to prevent war from breaking out. Other European nations probably could've cared less, but the Pope couldn't have Catholic nations spilling each others blood, so he drew an imaginary line on a map, splitting the New World in half. Now mind you, they had no clue back then just how large America was, so they gave Spain everything west of this imaginary line, and Portugal everything east of it. They both went about their colonizing, and Spain was quite pleased with the amount of land they soon discovered. At this point, most of North America and 97 percent of South America was controlled by the Spanish, but as it turns out, the imaginary line had been unknowingly drawn directly on the tip of Today's Brazil. So the Portuguese claimed it as quickly as they could, and established their colony there. Due to the large amount of rainforest in the Brazil area, the Spanish never did find out about this small Portuguese settlement. It wasn't until the Spanish got involved in numerous wars and financial troubles that the Portuguese decided to expand, and turned their colony into the largest in South America. The rest, as they say, is history.
So that's why Brazil speaks Portuguese amid the multitude of Spanish speaking countries! I hope you learned something today, and I sincerely hope I didn't bore you to death. Wouldn't want that kind of weight on my chest. Yes, I know this wasn't really the main point of my blog to begin with, but just think of it as a really extended example to prove my point: history is fun! So if your reading this, try to stay awake through history tomorrow. If you happen to be Mrs. Giddens and don't have a history class, just keep teaching English. It might not be quite as exciting as history, but I try my best to enjoy it.
Sincerely,
~Deranged Student
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