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"I don't wanna full ass it."



I just can't....I can't.

I might as well write stories will sitting here. My last story was on February 28. smh
 I was sitting in class today, like wdf.
 Things to me, were blown way out of proportion.
 Well thats all for now, I guess this would count for my March 1st post right.?

Es mi amigo su llama es Karly su apodo Karlotta es muy deportista y flexibile es practicar gymnasia and es muy centered es familia

Link to our site:


​http://dl.dropbox.com/u/2398758/msimmons%20and%20jgladden%20WEEBLY%20SITE.zip

So apparently all i write about is food. This is not true. I happen to write about food a lot but that's because I'm bored. When I am bored I experience two things. I experience hunger and I remember to write a story for the blog post. Combine two and two together and you get a story about food. Anyways, I'm going to stop. This was my last post about food.

Mi nombre es Shay. Tengo 15 años. Soy muy muy activa. Por lo tanto me gusta hacer ejercicio y paso unrato con amigo. Es por eso que nunca hago la tarea, y estudio. Casi todos los días  hago ejercicio. Después de la clase como y salgo con mi novio.

Wow, so my English class consists of about 15 girls and 2 guys, one of them being me. So uhm yeah lets just say I had a feeling this whole class would just turn out blah. And then it sort of did, but I guess everyone is smiling in the end. So I didnt have to go to the bathroom. :D

P.S: Girls can be crazzzzzy and bite your head off so just stayyyy away.

Saturday's FB status: "so many dresses.So little time."

famlia es nergo

Me encanta bailar y cocinar.  Es por eso que bailo y cocino todos dias. Me nombre es Miguel. Me tiene 15 años. me muy hermoso y loco. Tengo moreno y negro ojos. Me increiblemente bobo y divertid. Tengo e minor hermana y nombre es Sierra. Hago mi la tarea noches y vengo mi la casa  los dias. 

As the world becomes more modern, freedom of speech comes in all sorts of forms, blog post, a comment or review, a radio station broadcast, because with globalization occurring more and more everyday a person is able to get their ideas out there to the public more easily. However, with so many people sharing their opinions and thoughts it obvious that there needs to be some force to censor out the more obscene ideas and imagery and music. My classmates and I decided to look into the whole censoring of things to see if we were being protected by organizations like the FCC, or just silenced from the world.

1) Post a picture here (of a family - if you don't have one of your own family, find one on line or use a photo of friends)

2) Describe the variety of things that people do using frequency phrases.

Frequency phrases: todos los días/siempre, los (día), a veces/a menudo/cuando tengo tiempo libre/los fines de semana, (casi) nunca

Esta es una foto de mi familia. Mi hermana menor se llama Lola. Es muy trabajadora. Es por eso que todos los días ayuda en casa, cocina y cuida a nuestros sobrinos. Mis padres se llaman Antonio y Adela. Leen mucho y a veces ven la televisión. Mi hermano se llama  Patricio y su esposa se llama Denise. Denise es muy activa. Por lo tanto, siempre hace ejercicio. Corre todos los lunes, martes y jueves. Patricio es perezoso. Nunca trabaja.

¿Y yo? Juego deportes, leo mucho y estudio español.

The lost man fell
and went trough hell
but didn’t give up
kept going, with an empty cup

The lost man fought
for what he sought
with no wish for peace
his life on lease

The lost man found
some decent ground
He stood up straight
hoped it wasn’t too late

The lost man
Lost no more
found himself
a little whore

The lost man, lost again

They say love don’t last
“they” don’t know us
They say people die
They just lie

We say love can last
We know our past
We know Love
Thats why deaths a lie

They say a lot,
They are all fools
They smoke pot
They use their tools

We don’t use pot
We still fly
We know a lot
We wont ever die

Love happens, then our life starts, Death is just the next step,
a step to something better

I played with how I told stories, and the amount of detail, I’m special interested to hear how I did with this short story:


There was a table in the corner, I remember, a table that was not there before. It was a short table, maybe 3 foot, made out of oak, finely polished, standing on four legs. The table was familiar and yet I don’t recall ever seeing it. What was on the table was what really got me, there was a picture on it, and there I was in the picture, with a beautiful woman. The woman had dark hair, and beautiful brown eyes, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  I knew her from somewhere, but where? I looked down at my glass, the clear dark liquid shown my reflection.  An old tired face, gray hair, I took a long sip, the alcohol burning my old chapped lips.  As I finished the drink, I stumbled a bit before pouring myself another class, I had opened a new bottle of whiskey. The picture began to blur as I realized that I was going to pass out before I got to drink anymore. Then I remembered the picture, my wife, our wedding day, the table. She had carved it herself, for me, for us. I passed out with thoughts of seeing her again, I prayed, I wouldn’t wake up.