| come back... |
[Apr. 24th, 2008|11:11 am] |
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it has been 143 weeks since i last posted an entry to this journal. a lot can happen in 143 weeks and truth be known, a lot has happened. life is such a mixed bag. 143 weeks brings its share of good days and bad days but it's all a thing of beauty. if there is one thing that has changed inside of me over these last 143 weeks is that i appreciate life more than i ever have before. i appreciate those close to me because i realize i can't have them forever. they are gifts from Christ. i appreciate the lessons that adversity and trials bring because they teach me what a great support God is. i appreciate taking it slow, and easy. i appreciate a blue sky, green grass, laughter, books, guitars, old friends, new friends, beat-up cars, perserverance, rotten yet sincere art, the taste of water, shoes without laces, batman, facing fears, sun glasses, trains, the smell of citrus fruit and most of all knowing a God who loves me- someone He made. i'm thankful...that's basically it. |
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| Storytime... |
[Oct. 26th, 2004|12:39 pm] |
Once upon a time in a far away land lived the Littlest Panda. She was much smaller than all the other pandas (obviously) and didn't like to eat leaves. One day, as she was enjoying a delcious brunch of fried eggs and cabernet sauvignon with her friend Doctor Badger, she decided she needed a change of pace.
"I think I shall vacation in Mexico," she said.
After commenting on her perfume, Doctor Badger warned her not to visit Mexico.
"You'll get the runs for sure," he said.
The Littlest Panda failed to listen to his warnings. She bought a plane ticket and traveled to Mexico where she drank all the water she could find. She was very sorry she didn't listen to her friend's advice. She later returned home and after a series of medical treatments, they all lived happily ever after.
THE END |
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| Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat... |
[Jun. 8th, 2004|02:57 pm] |
And now, a poem I wrote while on a ten minute break today at work:
The Bluebird
By Josh
Bluebird, bluebird of lovely hue
Fluttering on wings of blue
Tell me where it is you go
When winter kisses earth with snow
Little bluebird my stomach growls
As I gaze upon you now
And imagine how it would be great
If you were baked or broiled upon my plate
Yes, I DO realize that my poetry sucks and poems don't HAVE to rhyme. |
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