Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
The Hogs of Entropy 0566
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #566
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
888 888 888 888 888 "How I Became Normal"
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
888 888 888 888 888 " by AnonGirl
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 4/11/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
When I was a child, my brother and I would go on several adventures
and make amazing discoveries. We would find ourselves running from large
animals, running as fast as we can. We would find ourselves petrified of
the tree with the horrid face in its trunk. Swarms of bees would attack
us, though we would make it out without a single sting. The inventions we
came up with were fantastic. Record players would serve as an evil ploy of
Snakeyes' to make Duke and Flint dizzy. Skeletor would use whipped cream
to trap He-Man. Bookshelves would turn into fortresses, blankets would
become instant housing, and snow was the most deadly weapon of all.
My brother and I discovered a bullfrog, while on a trip to the lake.
We called him Frogslegs, for we were at a loss of any other name. We
decided to bring him back home with us, to the suburb where we lived. We
couldn't tell our parents, because Dad would have had a fit if he'd known
there was a frog in the car. We hid him in the Kleenex box. The drive was
only four hours, we figured he would survive. Soon into the drive,
however, my brother and I fell asleep. We were carried to our beds when we
arrived, not thinking of Frogslegs. The next morning, we remembered, and
ran out to the car to discover a dead Frogslegs. We were so ashamed of
ourselves, that we held a funeral for him, and gave him a proper burial.
Every spring meant caterpillar season for us. While waiting for
Mother to pick us up from school, my brother and I discovered a nest of
small caterpillars and decided that we wanted to bring them home. My
mother was not pleased when she saw our handfuls of caterpillars, but she
didn't flip. On the way home, one of the catepillars pissed on my hand,
so I shoved it down one of the old childseat holes in the area between the
back seats and the back winshield. The next day, my mother was driving me
to a soccer game, when suddenly a caterpillar landed on her head, causing
her to swerve off the road and hit a telephone pole. I didn't make it to
the soccer game.
When I was in kindergarten, our teacher professed that riding
"doubles" (two people on one bike) would make God unhappy, and we would be
sent to Hell. One day, I was riding doubles with my friend Jaime when
suddenly we both fell. I smashed my face on the curb, which caused a mark
on my cheekbone. Luckily, I didn't become disfigured. As I ran home
crying, the only thing that could be heard in my mind was "I made God
unhappy! God pushed us off the bike! I'm going to Hell!"
Around the age of nine, I had become fascinated with projectile
objects, such as catapolts. Invention day came around, and I invented a
miniature catapolt made out of popsicle sticks. It managed to shoot
objects up to ten feet. I was very proud. Continuing with making things
that could throw, I made a sling shot out of some odd little metal thing,
and an elastic. My mother didn't like it, because I used it to shoot
things at the French kids down the street. She tried to confiscate it,
but she wasn't swift enough. I decided that I would bury it in a small
dirt path on my street. While digging with my hands, the really
good-looking boy who worked at the corner store walked by, gave me a
strange look, and continued walking. I felt like a worm.
What was this t-file about again?
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #566 - WRITTEN BY: ANONGIRL - 4/11/99 ]
