Where it hits the road like a horse's penis

To sum it up in 55 words and not more.

2004-05-28T04:10:00.000-07:00

He ran across the street to the phone shop, scarf and coat flying about him. Was he running from or towards something? Another followed behind him, huffing and puffing in the dreadfully chill winter night. I turned my attention to a nearby sign that glowed brightly across the street.
"Free secs with new Fido plan".

A story to wolf down

2004-05-28T04:09:00.000-07:00

A young girl named Little Red Riding Hood was almost killed and eaten by a vicious wolf yesterday over by Verry Berry Brook at sometime around 11 am.

The girl, named after the trademark cloak she always wears, asked her mother if it would be at all possible for her to go and visit her grandmother, Mary-Jane Puffelil, whom she hadn't seen in quite a while. Her mother, Ms. Rhed Raidin Ooed allowed her to go, but at one condition: she was to go straight to Grandma's house, not to dawdle along the way and not to talk to strangers. All of this because there was only one pathway there: through the dangerous woods.

"I, I noticed some pretty flowers in the woods, and forgot about my promise to Mommy!" said a shaken Little Red Riding Hood to reporters last night. "I was having so much fun that I didn't notice the wolf coming out of the forest behind me."

The wolf appeared seemingly out of nowwhere and asked the startled girl what she was doing out there. She blurted out that she was "on her way to see Granma who lived through the forest near Verry Berry Brook". Realizing she was late, she quickly excused herself and ran off. The wolf, in the meantime, took a shortcut leading to the small cottage.

According to Ms. Puffelil, the wolf arrived five minutes before her granddaughter and knocked on the door. "Of course I thought it was my little pumpkin at the door, and so I said to come in.", she stated. "I didn't have the time to say another word before that wolf gobbled me right up!".

Police found clothes all over the floor, hinting on what the wolf did next: He rummaged through Ms. Puffelil's wardrobe, and found a gound that he liked. He put this on in addition to a frilly sleeping cap, and for good measure, dabbed some of her perfume behind his pointy ears.

A few minutes later, Red Riding Hood knocked on the door. The wolf jumped into bed and pulled the covers over his nose. The girl entered and could scarcely recognize her grandmother. She explained to the authorities how she asked her "grandmother" about many peculiarities: her voice had changed, she had big ears, big eyes, big teeth. She stated that everytime she asked a question, it was easily answered, with such understandable things as: "Oh I just have a cold! ; The better to hear you with, my dear! ; The better to see you with, my dear!". Just after the last answer The wolf attacked. "The better to eat you with, my dear" he said as he leapt out of bed and ran after the terrified little girl.

"I could hear some yelling coming from down where the small cottage was, and I stopped to listen. I heard a young girl yelling help! and wolf!'", said Randy Johnson, 26, the woodsman that saved her. "I just ran down there as fast as my legs could carry me".

Getting there just in time, Johnson grabbed the wolf and made him spit out the grandmother who was a bit frazzled by the whole experience, but still in one piece.

The woodsman was then seen knocking the wolf unconscious, and dragging him deep into the forest where he wouldn't bother anyone ever again.

When we asked the Little Red Riding Hood what she had learnt from this experience, she stuck her chin out defiantly and said: "I'll never speak to strangers or dawdle in the forest again!"

Mary-Jane Puffelil and Little Red Riding Hood put aside yesterday's events and are already fully recovered from the incident. The surrounding community is happy that the girl learnt such an important lesson.

So I was thinking, and then: illumination

2004-05-28T04:08:00.000-07:00

For quite some time now, something has been on my mind. This something most definitely comes from all the experiences I've had over the years, but it's just now that I've come to the realization of it. Generally speaking, everyone remembers how it was when they were young, and know now how it is as they are older. Their family, friends, the tv they watch, the places they visit, the knowledge they gain, all contribute to the hardening of their hearts and minds. Some might disagree; let's look at it from my perspective shall we?

Although I was a baby, and don’t remember as much as I wish I could, I can still remember how I lived in a dream world, where everything was fun, and nothing was sad and unhappy. The sun always glowed bright and yellow, and although lightning was scary on those thundering nights, the lights they made were very pretty. I was innocent. I was still the play-doh waiting to be molded into something hopefully nice. I would get hurt, as would many others, but did not turn angry and wear the according expression after each incident. I did not understand yelling, and hate. I did not know of cruelty and suffering. Racism and war never existed. How disturbingly innocent I once was. I did not rely on symbols to lead my simple life. I took in what I could, did what I wanted for the most part and never complained about any of it. I once read a story involving two children, seperated by a fence ; one was very wealthy, the other not at all. The rich parents had bought their little son a beautiful toy carved out of wood, with bright paints that gleamed in the sunlight. On the other side of the fence sat the other, who had been given as a toy from his parents a rat with which he had much fun. The two sat across from each other in awe of the other's toy, wishing fervently that they could have the same as the other. As children, they had no one to tell them what was good and bad. There was no "because" in their minds. The rat was not awful because it was a rat, it in fact looked like a great toy to play with. And how that wooden man looked neat! But not because he was carved by a renown artist, or was painted with exotic colours. We were all once as they were. But, unfortunately, we grow, and with growing up comes experiences, and with experiences comes the steady decline of our innocence.

I can still remember the first day that I truly wished to inflict pain on another. I had been playing with my friend Chris, who was 4 years older than me, bigger, and much meaner. He had thought it funny to repeatedly hit and mock me. I cried, but with the tears that fell down my plump little cheeks came pain and anger. Revenge for the first time sprung without warning into my mind. I ran for a nearby stick, and chased the bully that he was all the way back into his house, brandishing my weapon fiercely, as I sought to return the pain he had inflicted on me for no sane reason. Already a thread of happiness had fallen off my web.

I grew older. My body got bigger and I started to make my own decisions. I began watching Power Rangers and I now owned my own Super Soaker, that was, as I used to state prooudly, comparable to one of terminator's guns. Note that this was and still is standard kid behavior of late. I would play violent games with friends, without even being aware of it. My friends would beat me in certain games, and I learned how to deal with unhappiness and being the loser. Through all the things that surrounded us, into our weak minds was planted the knowledge that for every good guy, there was another equally as bad. You would always have an enemy in life. This would spread and rub off onto the groups of kids at school - some being "losers", and others being "cool". Many children were mentaly scarred by this, left with nothing but tears and just enough self-esteem to get them through another day - Yet again another set of experiences that would change you for the rest of your life. Some days were sad, but most were happy. I have fond memories of those days. Most people will have the same. We wish we could go back in time and be a kid once again because now we know too much about the world. We are no longer alloted any time in fantasy-land, but now have to accept and acknowledge what we would rather ignore. Let’s leave the examples to your own imagination.

So we progressively become less innocent. I am now a teenager and I know very well of yelling and hate, as I have had many encounters with both. As we grow older, there seems to be more problems to confront us, and although we wish to plow our way on through life, we must make little annoying detours to avoid the obstacles that block us. I have seen cruel people at work, and suffered myself. Racism possessed some that I knew and know, and I've been surrounded by wars ever since I understood what they were. It's astonishing how much I've changed from when I was but a toddler with my beautiful wooden sculpture of a man, to who and what I am now. Many new things surround a teenager's life. Instead of thinking of tonight’s dinner as our stomach grumbles - along with a good night's sleep, we’re now thinking of the upcoming party everyone's talking about. Drugs, sex and alcohol suddenly become interesting to the majority of us, and some ruin their lives at an early age because they succumb to the lures that those three monsters cast out. We become social animals, craving everyone's approval. As a kid, if someone didn't like you, it would just leave you puzzled. And in any case, children never hate one another anyways. Can't we learn from this? Well, you see, we can't. We're steeled figures, with our own morals and values, our own views on life and it's components. We have invented and created religion and technology, both things that govern our thoughts and lives. Experiences have pushed us towards all of this. Experiences that tore and ripped at our sense of peace, that burned our sharing of friendship. Experiences that layed waste to the innocence we all once possessed and now miss so dearly.

I am but a few years away from becoming a man, and I have my own responsibilities and social adventures to take care of. I do not even wish to think of how my life will be once I turn nineteen. The possibilities and probabilities are frightening. Of course, I wish I could once again be a boy, with my parents to protect and comfort me. But we must move on, for no matter how much of the innocence and freedom we've lost up until now, we will lose far more if we look back on our way forward. It's too bad we must change in this way. For better or worse? I cannot tell…