Saturday, February 6, 2010

C is for Chloe


C is for Chloe, that crazy curly-haired monsted that sleeps under people's beds, waiting to strike and rip them to shreds with her claws when they least expect it.

Yeah, um.... She's not that much of a freak.

Chloe is one of the most amazing little children in the world. She scares other people with her violence and obssesion with cats, but not me, that brave little girl who faces her wrath head-on.
But really, Chloe isn't that bad. She's more sensible than me, but not crazy up-tight about not having fun. She's an AMAZING friend, one of the best I've ever had. No, seriously, she's way up there with The Cheesebutt.

Chloe is outgoing, graceful, and tall when she has her ten-inch heeled shoes on. She has curly, dirty blonde hair and happy green and brown eyes. She's a good source of comfort, unless you're crying over spilled milk, which she will then retort "get over it, fool" and walk away with her heels clopping on the floor.

I love her anyways. <3

OH NO EVERYTHING ELSE DISSAPEARED :000000!!!!!!!!!!!

B is for Bisco


B is for Bisco, my baby boy who I bridle up and ride.

A lot of you are probably thinking "who is this Bisco, and why the heck does she put a bridle on him?" or even "what is a bridle anyways?".

Don't worry, I haven't gone insane (though, now that I think about it, I can't really say that). Bisco, in short, is a horse. But not just any horse. He's a beautiful speckled chestnut paint who stole my heart the very first time I saw him. He's not mine, I just ride him and groom him, but I wish sooooo much that he was.

Now, all horses are special. But Bisco and I, there's something about us that just clicks into place. He listens to me unlike he's even listened to anybody before, and he does what I tell him too (though sometimes he can be a bit of a fart). He canters and jumps amazingly, though he is a bit stubby. He's NOT a pony though, just horse that's slightly smaller than normal (a bit like me, but I'm not an equine creature). His base color (WHOOO LOOK AT ME I'M REBEL NOT SPELLING IT THE CANADIAN WAY) is white, but he's a chestnut paint. The chestnut parts of him, though, are not solid but in fact made up of tens of million of little specks of that colour.

But Bisco is NOT a perfect horse in every way, but nobody is. He has a bit of an annoying habit of blowing out his stomach while you're putting on his girth, and you need a firm grip on his reins when you're on his back (especially when you go from trot to canter- then he yanks you down as yard as he can). Today another girl in my class was going to ride him because we were getting a feel of the other horses, and when she just made him go in a circle he yanked her right out of the saddle when he put his head down, so she was just lying on his neck (which can't have been comfortable for the old horse).

Bisco may be a bit frisky and.... eh, let's just say, not quite perfect, but he still is my favourite horse in the world, and probably will always have a special place in my heart.

Wow, was that cheesy or what?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

A is for Argh

A is for argh.

If you know anything about me, you'll know that I am a total spaz. I get easily frustrated, I like everything to be perfect, and I have a very short temper. And when it snaps, guess what I say.

"ARGH!!!"

Actually it would be something more like "@#!&%^)#@-?!@#$%*&(%#%^&$@#!!!!!!!!!!!!!" but there would probably be an argh somewhere in there. It was censored too for some reason, don't ask me why. I'm not in control of my typing.

So, anyways, yeah.

Some of my friends might find this hard to beleive, but I used to be the calmest, shyest little girl in my grade. Whenever I got angry I didn't yell "ARGH" but instead somehow changed it to sadness and ran to a corner to cry(emo, much). Either that or I kept it bottled up inside. But I finally shed that little shy sweet-heart scene and have become a much more interesting person, yet at the same time a much less likeable person. Well, to "popular" girls at least, but at least I actually have friends who like me for who I am, and not a posse who........ Well, I could go on and on about this, but some people, I'm afraid, may find it slightly offensive.

Don't worry, my next posts will be slightly more interesting and thoughtful than this one. I just feel lazy right now, and I just woke up.