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Tackeh's 10,000 Etchings

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 1:44am

MoonFairy

MoonFairy

3,230 posts

Smart? lolno.

WELL IF YOU HAD A PHONE YOU TOTALLY COULD.

I love how we spam this thread, and we'll never get in trouble :>

 

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 2:11am

jeol

jeol

3,565 posts

Well if I just stayed home all the time and basked in wifi-ness, I wouldn't need a phone :D. If only this thing supported TC...

I love how we spam this thread, and we'll never get in trouble :>

Either the great mods must be lazy, our we're special. I'm thinking special.

 

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 2:22am

MoonFairy

MoonFairy

3,230 posts

I'm thinking special.

\\(^,^)/

Wellllll to get somewhat on topic... I've a question for Tacky!

What do you plan on uploading within the month?

 

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 7:56pm

TackyCrazyTNT

TackyCrazyTNT

1,630 posts

Oh, wow, this is unexpected. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REPLY TO ALL OF THIS.
Thanks for commenting, guys. *wipes tear from eye*

Yes! I vote old people come back for the summer time! REVIVAL OF THE AMW.

Lol. We always say that. But we never do anything.

Excellent idea, lol.

I agree with Moon, jeol. Get yo'self a phone.

I love how we spam this thread, and we'll never get in trouble :>

Either the great mods must be lazy, our we're special. I'm thinking special.

We are definitely speshul.

What do you plan on uploading within the month?

More drawings, maybe I'll finish that dumb-*** short story I started a few weeks ago. I would write some poetry, but I can't motivate myself enough to write something good for the poetry competition, and the FLP is....uh...deteriorating.

 

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 8:05pm

Maverick4

Maverick4

3,707 posts

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REPLY TO ALL OF THIS.

Simple: Don't.

I can't motivate myself enough to write something good for the poetry competition

You must get motivated. DOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOIT.

 

Posted Apr 24, '12 at 8:46pm

jeol

jeol

3,565 posts

I agree with Moon, jeol. Get yo'self a phone.

But then I have to get a job, and I'm too lazy to get a job...

Actually, I sent in an application to a grocery store recently. They said they weren't hiring but would consider the application. Ha. Haha. Ha. Like that'll happen.

Simple: Don't.

>.>

We are definitely speshul.

Yeah, dude, totally, dude... We are totally... Special...

I would write some poetry, but I can't motivate myself enough to write something good for the poetry competition, and the FLP is....uh...deteriorating.

Give the FLP some antidote! undeteriorate it. WITH YOUR POETRY.

 

Posted Apr 26, '12 at 6:04pm

ProfessorOak

ProfessorOak

778 posts

Hm.

 

Posted Jun 14, '12 at 8:07pm

TackyCrazyTNT

TackyCrazyTNT

1,630 posts

I wrote a something silly to get the creative juices flowing again.

The Gulper: A journey to Pothead Mountain

    I went on an adventure today; the first that I've been on for quite a while. It was after one of our last exams, and I went with one friend only, someone that I was only just starting to talk to again after months of silence. We headed out as soon as we were released from our cramped exam desks and made our way through the scorching sunlight of high noon. At first we had planned to bring some other friends along, but they were taking too long, amassing a small crowd, and we were giddy with the prospect of a quest.
    "Who else knows about this place?" I asked as we trekked across the baseball field, the interstate roaring by on our left and the trail just meters ahead.
    "Potheads, mainly." she replied. "And you'll see a lot of beer bottles too."
    I immediately visualized glass bongs and glistening beer bottles shining under the sun. For some reason this made me even more eager to get there, though I'd never touched marijuana and wasn't a drinker.
    "I wasn't aware that you smoked pot." I also wasn't aware that the few months I hadn't talked with her could have made such a large difference in the types of people we acquanted ourselves with.
    She laughed. "I don't. It smells disgusting."
    I laughed too, and we finally crossed a patch of construction, ending up at the edge of a dense forest. She pointed to a vaguely distinguishable trail of patted down vegetation, and we walked along it, carefully stepping over mossy logs and rocky creeks.
    Vines and weeds wrapped their tendrils around my bare ankles, leaving red scratches crisscrossing over my skin. I felt a sharp pinch on the top of my foot and looked down to find a surprisingly small ant furiously burying its jaws into my flesh.
    "I probably should have told you to wear sneakers." She said sheepishly. "I got scratched up the first time I came here too."
    We clawed our way out of the forest, walked along railroad tracks, and descended again into the foliage, though the trail this time was much clearer, and there was a notable absense of ants.
    Then we arrived at a small clearing. I could hear the roar of a river closeby, and sure enough, there were crushed beer cans and Dorito bags littering the ground. A small fire pit lay in the center of the clearing. It was surprisingly less elegant than the image I had conjured (though I don't know why I imagined a pothead's retreat to be elegant). There was no glittering glass, but it still had a sort of charm. A sort of solace.
    "Here's the Gulper!" she yelled. I walked out to where she was standing, and in front of her was a small river, no more than 20 feet across and 4-5 feet deep.
    "It's a great place to skip stones" she said, bending down to remove some slate rock from where we were standing. She blew the dust off the side and skipped it over the water.
    "Isn't there any shade?" I crouched down beneath a scraggly tree. A pink towel was placed haphazardly to its side, most likely flung off before a plunge.
    "People usually come here at night," She said, "to get high and drunk and stuff."
    THe rock on the opposite side of the river, where the water was deepest, was spray painted with the letters SWED over and over, with different fonts and different colors. "Smoke Weed Every Day" I was told once by a condescending Senior. I could picture shouting teens, most likely people I knew well, buzzed and soaked to the bone, spray cans and beer cans in hand as they perched on each others shoulders to make sure their art stayed above the water level.
    I could picture the Gulper at dusk, gold as the sun sunk below the horizon and choppy as its visitors made use of its cold water. I could picture, with a little bit of envy, the freedom of living in the moment and not caring one bit if the next day ever did turn itself around.
    My friend saw the look on my face, probably remembering how she felt the same way when she was brought for the first time as well. "Do you want to go swimming here some time?"
    I looked at her flatly, and she guessed what was running through my mind.
    "Just us and some close friends" she promised. "No beer, no pot."
    I nodded, and we both grinned. We pulled ourselves up from underneath the shade and started the journey back.

 

Posted Jun 16, '12 at 1:50pm

ABarOfSoap

ABarOfSoap

216 posts

Uh... huh. Strange. Do I sense some hidden desire to deviance from your Asian upbringing? Nah, just kidding. I liked it. You're a good writer, and perspective was pretty interesting.

 

Posted Jun 20, '12 at 12:58pm

TackyCrazyTNT

TackyCrazyTNT

1,630 posts

Uh... huh. Strange. Do I sense some hidden desire to deviance from your Asian upbringing? Nah, just kidding. I liked it. You're a good writer, and perspective was pretty interesting.

Thank you so much, Soap! T.T
You get a cookie or something now.

I find it sort of funny that everyone was commenting when I WASN'T writing anything, but then when I actually post something....lol

Cartoons'n stuff coming up.

 
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