Tribute to Jessika

For one of my best friends on her birthday.

Jessika Cummins was a powerful force since her days in the womb. She was born during a tornado in a collapsing building that was on fire. The doctor was so nervous that he was unable to deliver her. Jessika got fed up with him and delivered herself. When she emerged a chorus of angels exploded into joyous song, flowers bloomed all around the world, all fighting came to a halt, and Jesus himself descended from the clouds to bless this new baby.

By the time she was ten Jessika already knew everything there was to know in the world. No Encyclopedia could match her wit. She went to school anyway to keep up appearances and mingle with the common folk. They all would fall to their knees as she passed.

One day Jessika’s parents tired to clone her. Why wouldn’t they want two perfect beings to call their own? The attempt went horribly wrong. The lab in which they were conducting their experiment exploded because God was trippin’ that day and didn’t want them ignoring copyright laws. Seeing the rubble and sensing that her parents were beneath it, Jessika dove in head first to save them. Onlookers gathered around, praying for the safety of the family, weeping in despair. Suddenly, a fist burst forth from the debris and Jessika soon followed after it. She pulled out her dirt covered mother and father and a new being no one had ever seen before. It was a twisted mass of flesh and bone. They named it Evan.

Nowadays she rules over the flute section of the Lafayette band with an iron fist. Her flute is secretly a blow dart which she uses to punish those who try to rise up against her. Many freshmen have gone missing this year but no one dares to even think about asking Jessika. Her steely glare can make the biggest of grown men piss their pants.

And yes, Jessika uses crayons to color. She dares Stu and Mike to try and stop her.

My First Blogging Experience

My first experience with Blogspot.com was not memorable because of the nifty features or the amazing blogs that spill forth from its bowels.

No, my first experience will always be a reminder of something that will haunt me forever.The handicapped sign next to the post verification box.

When I first laid eyes on it my brain went into shock and froze. Since I run on Windows, my peers had to press Ctrl+Alt+Delete in order to restart me. Ten minutes later I could still not believe it. Why was this button where it was? It made no sense. Did Blogspot have a special code for the handicapped that would allow them access to places within the site that were so wonderful and glorious that few could handle it?

I expressed my theory to Stevie. My arms flailed and my eyes burst from their sockets in my excitement. She just stared at me and handed my eyes back to me. "It's for if you can't see the word. It'll read it to you."

I dust off my eyes and pop them back into to place. A hair is caught behind the right one and irritates me to no end. "That cannot be right!" I exclaim leaping from my seat and pointing at the button in question, "If you cannot see the words, how could you see the sign?"

I knew I had her stumped then. My logic was flawless. The word 'poopog' was displayed in large green letters against a white background. Only a blind man, or woman, would be unable to read it.Our confusion grew as the second ticked by. Grew until our heads expanded with all the possibilities and then exploded into a rorschach of blood, brain matter, and awesome.

We could never figure it out.