1.03.2007

Once Upon A Time...

Just making sure this thing doesnt get stale. Though I really could care less. Continue in the comments if you so desire...

Once upon a time, there lived a young boy named Jonathan...

10 comments:

brent said...

who lived on a very famous farm, known as Round The Bend Farm. He had lots of fun there when he was a kid, but as soon as he became the age where he started to work, he wanted to get away. So he up and left, and now he works at the well reknowned McDonalds.

There was also a boy named Brent, who loved to play at the farm as a little boy. Brent and Jonathan would have lots of fun, especially stealing things from the stand. Brent and Jonathan were inseparable, until one day, Brent's parents stopped working there. But even though the year's have passed, Brent and Jonathan are still inseparable.

The End

Now it's your turn to write a story..

Once upon a time there lived a young boy named Brent...

tarajoy said...

haha. that was my idea. darn, now i have to think of something original.

i love fairytales..haha. we've been over this.

Jess said...

Jonathan had many passions in his life, particularly dealing with office supplies. Every day, he waited patiently for the school bell to ring so he could jump on his orange bike and ride to the nearest Office Depot. First breathing in the crisp scent of bare notebooks, he would move onto fondling the grippy pens in the next aisle, which lead him to the fiddling with mini-staplers. After meandering through the racks of hole punchers, pocket protectors, brightly coloured binders, he would finally stop at his favourite destination: the permanent Sharpie marker. He was a loyal collector, of course - finetip, extra-fine, retractable, bold, chisel-tip- you name it, he had it. In every colour. He even had a vast collection of their paint markers, even the special edition Green-gold ones.
However, it was never enough, and Jonathan took every opportunity he could to buy more. Every birthday, every Christmas, when relatives and friends asked him what he wanted, his answer would always be the same: "More Sharpies". He had the new mini-Sharpies (the keychain kind) in original and fine-tip, he owned the highlighters in bulk, knew every shade by the smell.
However, several weeks after his 17th birthday, his parents noticed something very different about Jonathan's behaviour. He became more open, happier by nature, and instead of hanging out at the Office Depot for hours after school, he would sometimes come straight home, many times with friends by his side. His parents sighed with relief at this new, fresh side of him, accepting it as just another perk of puberty. Little did they know, however, that the moment they got used to his new personality, the big downfall would come.
One night, they came home after a Bach concert (he had excused himself out of it, complaining that his homework load was unusually high that night), slid their keys into the lock and turned, and immediately noticed something strangely familiar in the air.
It was the loaded, pungent scent of Sharpie permanent markers - something they had not smelled in months. They quickly ran to Jonathan's room and found the door closed. With a mighty shove, Mr. Jonathan busted the door open, and the two parents were alarmed at the sight in front of them. Jonathan, lying face down and shirtless on the bland lavender carpetting of his room, with colourful marks across his chest, and uncapped markers, all 1200 from his collection - finetip, super-fine, chisel-tip, king-sized, bullet - lying in a heap beside his lifeless body.
The end.


Sorry, I got kind of carried away.

Jess said...

Okay, you're going to have to delete that comment so I can edit it out.

And you should probably know that we'll always continue on with the comments.
Always.
It's the fun of having a public blog.

darryl said...

Well, the problem with markers is they're really just a gateway drug to harder stuff.
One minute you're sniffing sharpies, next you're shooting up with printer ink cartridges in an abandoned alleyway with your life in shambles.

Fedd-X said...

I hate printer cartridges, they get everywhere whenever I touch them. I'll stick to the markers thank-you.

tarajoy said...

hahahaha jessica you made me laugh!

tarajoy said...

(dont take that wrong now jonathan;) )

Fedd-X said...

Tara, how is it you can post two comments in the same moment? Are you using more than one computer? Now that's a talent.

Continuing the story Brent tried to start in his comment...

... Brent was the younger cousin of a boy named Jonathan, and to two of them went on many grand adventures together. But as time progressed, the parents of Jonathan and Brent began to worry that they would not make any friends who werent related to them by blood. The two were forcibly separated, and for a while things seemed to be over between them. But then one day, Brent came to the school where Jonathan had been sent a year earlier. Reunited, the two set out on many more grand adventures, now with both sets of their unique and individual friends in tow.

The End (?)

tarajoy said...

you two are silly. and yes, im simply speedy.