Friday, September 3, 2010

Why I will never be an author

Once upon a time, there was a girl with a story in her head.

The story wanted to come out, but the girl was too lazy/busy/stupid/tired to let it out.

The story became impatient and started to chant, "let me out let me out let me out," ad nauseum, until the girl thought she might go insane.

But still, being lazy/busy/stupid tired prevailed, and she didn't let it out.

Then the story grew more impatient and, with feet clad in army boots and pounding fists, it started a riot. There was no more chanting. There was screaming. LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT.

The girl told the story to shut the fuck up. But it continued to pound. LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT.

The girl put pillows over her head and took valium with vodka, but nothing dulled the pounding. The girl grew angry and resentful of the stupid pounding story and jabbed chopsticks into her ears to try to kill the monster, but still it pounded on.

L E T M E O U T L E T M E O U T L E T M E O U T

And then her head exploded.

The end.

PS: Photo stolen here.
PPS: Do not ever do a google image search for "exploding head." Trust me.
PPPS: Love of exploding heads inspired here.

3 comments:

Barrie said...

Very fun post. Scary pic. ;)

Cat said...

You know I'm heading right over to google images and its all your fault!

Lisa Wheeler Milton said...

Whenever I have had it with the kids - and it has been FREQUENT as of late - I quote Katydidnot.

In my head.

It makes me feel better.