so i was at gymnastics talking to my old coach. then this girl comes up to me.
girl: how old are you?
me: 14.
girl: are you a grandma???
me: no.
girl: oh. how tall are you?
me: about 5' 2"... why?
girl: are you a mom???
me: no. i'm not even out of high school, let alone over the age of 21...
just then my friend shannon walks up.
shannon: hey karissa.
me: hey
girl: how old are you? (to shannon)
shannon: 14
girl: are you a grandma???
shannon: no
me: uhh...shannon. shaunas calling us...
then we both say bye. it was so funny. but amazingly i answered all those questions with a serious face. okay. the end.
(this is a TRUE story. not lying.)
another story...or 2.
schedule of a dog and a cat.
Dog
8:00 am -Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Dinner! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
The Cat
Day 983 of my captivity:
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They
dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or
some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations
perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my
strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt
to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a
mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would
strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities.
However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little
hunter' I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed
in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear
the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to
the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means, and how to use it to
my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this
again tomorrow,but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The
dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be
more than willing to return . He is obviously retarded.
The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the
guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have
arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe... for now...
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