Description: No. They're not those grannies, the ones you call grandma or something like that. They aren't nomads or "wild" either. They're just a funny name given by us funny Asians. They are born the size of Barbie dolls and grow to half a normal human's height.
Locally known as: Ebu Gogo (which means Granny Flesheater)
Universally known as: The Hobbit
If you were pondering about the credibility of all the crap above, the answer is: Yes, these Wild Grannies DO exist. Or rather, existED. Scientists dismissed reports about them as sightings of monkeys and pointed out that no granny artifacts had been found. I suppose they were expecting partially fossilised knitting patterns.
I went for braces tightening today. Gee, it was horribly terrible like vegetables. I didn't even eat for recess because my mouth was excruciatingly painful. The crazy 4.8mm-thick rubber bands were pulling my teeth back aLOT. Even talking was hard!!! I had not-so-fluorescent orange for the lower jaw and a mix of lime green and strawberry-like red. OUCH!
Credibility of short stories below have not been confirmed. Please read with care and do not draw up conclusions of your own unless further investigations have been made.
Please note that the following story is quite long and you might fall asleep halfway through.
One day, I found a female scorpion on the wall, wearing what at first glance appeared to be a pale fawn fur coat. Closer inspection proved that this strange garment was made up of a mass of tiny babies clinging to the mother's back. I was enraptured by this family, and I made up my mind to smuggle them into the house and up to my bedroom so that I might keep them and watch them grow up. With infinite care I manouvred the mother and her family into the matchbox, and then hurried to the villa. It was rather infortunate that just as I entered the door lunch should be served; however, I placed the matchbox carefully on the mantelpiece of the living room, so that the scorpions could get plenty of air, and made my way to the dining-room and joined the family for the meal. Dawdling over my food, feeding Roger surreptitiously under the table and listening to the family arguing, I completely forgot about my exciting new captures. At last, Larry, having finished, fetched the cigarettes from the drawing-room, and lying back in his chair he put one in his mouth and picked up the matchbox he had brought. Oblivious of my impending doom I watched him interestedly as, still talking glibly, he opened the matchbox.
Now I maintain to the day that the female scorpion meant no harm. She was agitated and a trifle annoyed at being shut up in a matchbox for so long, and so she seized the first opportunity to escape. She hoisted herself out of the box with great rapidity, her babies clinging on desperately, and scuttled on to the back of Larry's hand. There, not quite certain what to do next, she paused, her sting curved up at the ready. Larry, feeling the movement of her claws, glanced down to see what it was, and from that moment things got increasingly confused.
He uttered a roar of fright that made Lugaretzia drop a plate and brought Roger out from beneath the table, barking wildly. With a flick of his hand, he sent the unfortunate scorpion flying down the table, and she landed midway between Margo and Leslie, scattering babies like confetti as she thumped on the cloth. Thoroughly enraged at this treatment, the creature sped towards Leslie, her sting quivering with emotion. Leslie leapt to his feet, overturning his chair, and flicked out desperately with his napking, sending the scorpion rolling across the cloth towards Margo, who promptly let out a scream that any railway engine would have been proud to produce. Mother, completely bewildered by this sudden and rapid change from peace to chaos, put on her glasses and peered down the table to see what was causing the pandemonium, and at that moment Margo, in a vain attempt to stop the scorpion's advance, hurled a glass of water at it. The shower missed the animal completely, but successfully drenched Mother, who, not being able to stand cold water, promptly lost her breath and sat gasping at the other end of the table, unable even to protest. The scorpion had now gone to ground under Leslie's plate, while her babies swarmed wildly all over the table. Roger, mystified by the panic, but determined to do his share, ran round and round the room, barking hysterically.
"It's that bloody boy again..." bellowed Larry.
"Look out! Look out! They're coming!" screamed Margo.
"All we need is a book," roared Leslie, "don't panic, hit 'em with a book."
"What one earth's the matter with you all?" Mother kept imploring, mopping her glasses.
"It's that bloody boy......he'll kill the lot of us....Look at the table....knee-deep in scorpions....
"Quick.....quick.......do something....Look out, Look out!!!"
"Stop screeching and get a book, for God's sake....you're worse than the dog...Shut up, Roger...."
"By the Grace of God I wasn't bitten...."
"Look out....there's another one....Quick...quick...."
"Oh shut up and get me a book or something...."
"But how did the scorpions get on the table, dear?"
"That bloody boy.....Every matchbox in the house is a deathtrap...."
"Look out, it's coming towards me....Quick, quick do something...."
"Hit it with your knife....your knife.....Go on, hit it...."
Since no one had bother to explain things to him, Roger was under the mistaken impression that the family was being attacked, and that it was his duty to defend them. As Lugaretzia was the only stranger in the room, he came to the logical conclusion that she must be the responsible party, so he bit her in the ankle. This did not help matters very much............[unwritten continuation].
Well, by now, you would have probably guessed why I gave this post such an interesting title. The posts right now might bore you to death but at least there's something to laugh about.
I now change the topic to blogs itself. I keep pondering over the question : "Why do people keep their blog when it's dead?" or "Why even BOTHER having a blog if you NEVER update?". That seems ridiculously stupid but hey, just because everyone's having a blog, you want a blog too. That's just not right. I mean, I keep track of my blog because I found out that I might be having a busy year ahead (2008. It was 2007 when I created this blog). And wow, true enough, a busy year awaits. At least I keep track of my memory. I don't write emotional posts meant for making myself cry in the future, unlike those Korean and Japanese drama =P Sorry, no offense to those who regularly watch those dramas.
And another thing......I just can't help noticing why everyone is so hyped about putting their photos on the internet. I mean, not that I despise people like that or anything.....it's just that when most people take pictures of themsleves.....I can't help wondering why they enlarge their eyes.....It makes people seem ghostly and they look like they urgently need a killing spree. I understand that everyone knows that "bigger eyes make you look cuter...." or whatever crap like that. But really, bulging out your eyes in every self-picture is a bit too scary......I either hide myself under the blanket whenever I see someone exercising that or I just burst out in my trademark hysterical laughter, which isn't a pretty sight....Back to the point.....bulging out your eyes is bad for.....erm....health?? It makes you look either like a psychotic maniac who just escaped from prison or some funny indication on how shallow and meaningless eyes are.
Next, what is WRONG with puppets?!?!??! I just seem to fear them day by day......especially after that stupid tag on finding the pictures on google....I hate puppets......especially ventriloquist dolls. Everytime I see one, my brain freezes and panic alarm goes off. Next thing you know, I'll be up a tree already........
And who knows??? Maybe I can see some Wild Grannies!!!!!!!
Yay Wild Grannies!!!!!!
Oh hey, maybe we can name our cheerleading team Wild Grannies!!! Like, Wild Cats??? Wild Grannies have a tinge of humour in it!!!! So, why not???
Let us have a moment of peace as we rethink the consequences of renaming our Dynamitez to become Wild Grannies. I wouldn't want to think of those healthy, young cheerleaders as the Secret Tribe of Wild Grannies....
Darn it....there are 95 pages full of 7-letter words....
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