S3NS3R

   "So where do you get your inspiration from?" she asked as she finished writing down the man's last comment.   "Oh, everywhere. But mostly from my neighbors."   "Neighbors?"   "Yeah. They just have so much to them. They're always doing something. So I like to paint that," the artist answered while bouncing his leg. The woman noticed this.   "You seem nervous. Are you?" She leans in a bit.   He stopped bouncing his leg. "No."   She leans in more and asks, "Are you sure, you can tell me if you are. It's nothing to be ashamed of."   "I said no." He gave a glare and continued to bounce his leg again. Almost as if he was rebelling

Say dirt is beauty and angels are mad Understand the old Listen in your sleep Think all quiet sing and the lazy sculpt your beauty paint death but whisper life write free

I'm held tight or I'm on the ready Depending on who I'm with You load my barrel with Knowledge like bullets But what will I use my bullets for? Good or Evil If for Good held me tight and only good will come If for Evil have me on the ready and it will bring the end.

Ken, Kenny, and Kenneth are sitting at a booth at their family restaurant. Kenneth is reading the paper. Kenneth: Hey guys! Look at this. There was a truck crash last night. Ken: Oh my! How terrible! Was anyone hurt? Kenneth: Who cares! I only care about the money. Ken: The money? Kenny:  The bunny? Where? (Kenneth bonks Kenny on the head) Kenneth: Not bunny, stupid! Money! And lots of it. See the truck was one of those money hauling trucks. Crash! Boom! The money was flying everywhere! If only I was there to catch it. Kenny: Woo hoo! Crash! Boom! I love fireworks! Ken: No, Kenny, it wasn't fireworks it was . . .  never mind. Kennet

His mother drove into the small parking lot to drop him off at the park. As they drove up, you can see how excited the young boy was. Ball in his right hand and his left struggled with the door handle to the front seat of the van. As the door flung open he laughed and started for the multicolored jungle gym. Remembering the door, he skid to a stop, turned around, and slammed the door.  Pushing off the van door with his hand, he ran full speed to the jungle gym. Once he was off the blacktop, he ran through the wood chips surrounding the jungle gym. He slipped on some of the wood chips and fell on his side. The smell of soggy wood chips filled

His parents turn off the lights, the song begins, and the glow of the candles illuminate the smiles on their faces He inhales, exhales and the room turns to black. He is the one who turns on the lights.

So? What do you think? Does it look good? Yeah, it's not your "typical" but I like it. Oh, you're thinking "typical?" What is she talking about? But I know your kind. Snobby Stuck-up Gossipers that think they know me. And by my clothes? Yeah. Sure. Right. Her shirt is black so she must be-- blah blah blah. You don't know me! For heaven's sake look at you! I don't need to look at your clothes to know you. Your face is screwed up when you look at me and that's not the only time it's screwed up. Just look in a mirror. You'll see what I see. Oh, wait. You do that every 5 minutes don't you? Typical.

As I walked through the double doors, I can hear the beating of drums. There's a lot of bass and it starts to make my head throb with the beat of the music. My feet kick a stray soda can, it rolls into someone's feet and is consumed by the crowds of dancers that fill the club. Most of the people around me are either drinking or dancing to the entrancing beat of the music. This explains the rancid smell of alcohol and sweat that, at first, make my nose wrinkle and my eyes water. But as I walk through the mass of people towards the DJ, my senses adjust to the sounds and smells. I took a left turn to make my way towards the bar. Sitting on the

As I walked through the double doors, I could hear the beating of drums. There was a lot of bass and it started to make my head throb with the beat of the music. My feet kicked a stray soda can, it rolled into someone's feet and was consumed by the crowds of dancers that filled the club. Most of the people around me were either drinking or dancing to the entrancing beat of the music. This explained the rancid smell of alcohol and sweat that, at first, made my nose wrinkle and my eyes water. But as I walked through the mass of people towards the DJ, my senses adjusted to the sounds and smells. I took a left turn and made my way towards the b