Fellowship of the FacebookTHE FELLOWSHIP OF THE FACEBOOK STATUS UPDATESFellowship of the Facebook
------------------------------------------------------------------- Bilbo Baggins: will shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday
Five friends are attending A PARTY OF SPECIAL MAGNIFICENCE
Gandalf Thegrey: Always arrives precisely when he means to.
Frodo Baggins: PARTY!!
Three people like this.
Pippin: WOOT
Frodo Baggins is a bit worried about his uncle
Merry Brandybuck: LOL
Frodo Baggins: Srsly, he's acting weird
Seven friends are attending A PARTY
Diary of a Sullen BabysitterI am a sullen babysitter, that’s my chosen path. Well, when is say it’s chosen, that really is a laugh- For it’s not so much a career choice as bloody desperation When I gave up handing in CVs in absolute frustration.Diary of a Sullen Babysitter
I am good at what I do, I like to raid the larder.
You might complain of office jobs, but babysitting’s harder.
You have to be reliable, and sensible, and ready to wash the vomit off your hair and crayon marks off teddy.
At least I get to raid the fridge, but even that’s a joke when it’s empty, but for carrots (dad’s a heal
Grief GriefGrief
I am swimming in the wake of the bluefilled waka After staying up all night, banging the whiskey against the table and shouting making a fool of myself. The gulls mock. The sky wheels.
There’s nothing for it but a hangover clearing walk alone beside the tide. To clear my throbbing head of bad news and drowning blues, I dive into the ocean, which sucks in its breath against tender ribs.
Brimful blue. I am swimming.
I can hardly contain myself.
I am falling behind. Maybe
I’m about to start drowning.
At f
Bad PoetryDear --,Bad Poetry
I began your letter at the stop sign on Third Street and lost it in a traffic jam on Hemming Way; you would've rolled your eyes at the name, so I tried to imagine you sitting beside me. That's what did it, of course--I had a perfectly good sentence and it went right out the window
with sentiment.
See there--I was trying to redeem myself by writing a poem, but apologetic prose doesn't like to share. I had grand illusions--something about a word o
compulsive liar.once i asked you your favourite colour, and you said, "the brown of your eyes," so i put in one green contact and told everyone that icompulsive liar.
came out of the womb as a factory defect, half-priced, damaged goods.
-
sometimes i am from canada and sometimes i am from england and sometimes i am from spain.
i've carefully tempered my accents and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.
"why do you lie to everyone?" you ask.
"why
But who?
I guess this means you have someone out there who admires you!
--
~Community Love is Contagious~
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