Comments Posted By Jenn

Displaying 241 To 265 Of 265 Comments


cars drive in the wrong lane all the time, and then mike gets mad and flips them off and yells at them.

» Posted By jenn On 11.17.2009 @ 5:46 pm


it fells so nice the way everything feels soft and plush or it can be hard and rough and sandy or smooth and firm or too soft texture can apply to food buildings color art music everything there is on earth

» Posted By Jenn On 12.11.2009 @ 2:51 pm


i don’t worship anything. i can’t find any means of truth in religion. it all just seems like a bunch of bullshit to me. you tell someone something long enough, they’re going to believe it. People are brainwashed.

» Posted By jenn On 12.06.2009 @ 10:52 pm


So soft and cozy they keep my fingers warm, and ensure that the cold white stuff stays away from my skin. Oh mittens i love you and your woolly goodness.

» Posted By Jenn On 12.26.2009 @ 4:45 am


i would never want to live in a hut. a hut is gross and dingy. i think of nasty africans when i think of a hut. mut slapped upon mud, its not for me. i wish that everyone in the world could live in a regular house, not in a hut. poor people live in huts, homeless people always asking for money and crack cocain.

» Posted By jenn On 12.17.2009 @ 5:35 pm


It’s bright and there it is and it’s warm in this cold and it’s the lantern.

» Posted By Jenn On 12.16.2009 @ 7:30 pm



» Posted By Jenn On 12.12.2009 @ 8:19 am


The bundle was filled to the brim, joyously I quested to retrieve its owner. Who had gifted me this plethora of fruit? The smell, tantalizing, my mouth watered. I wished to bite the forbidden flesh. What had I found, I was gifted myself. Joy me.

» Posted By Jenn On 01.29.2010 @ 7:40 pm



» Posted By Jenn On 01.18.2010 @ 6:27 am


We trot, he trot, she trot. I trot to the corner and take off my short. Listen to me, I’m screaming now. Let me free, I’m trotting to the distance and the psychosis is taking it’s toll. Fuck me now, I’m fucking and trotting and that fucking pony is on my back, riding me like the euphoric acidic wave that I call my dream. Let’s do this.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.15.2009 @ 8:01 pm

foxtrot, the trot of a horse, the pound of a bass, the beat of a heart.

A upbeat sort of a gait that seems to glide.

I’m procrastinating on a paper.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.14.2009 @ 6:33 pm


I’m pregnant, she screamed! The baby’s bounding itself to my innards. I’m going to cry. Wait, wait. I know what I’ll do. Hand me that knife! The super glue, too. I’ll kill it, I’ll kill it! She shouted with glee. And I just watched, dismay painted on my face. I felt bad, but I couldn’t stop her that night.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.13.2009 @ 6:54 pm


A pool of blood lay on the floor, her hair was ashen white. Shock had overtaken her, just previously that night. A glazen knife lay on her lap, a smile on her face. And all she uttered in my ear was “Here, he lives again.” I gasped, she smirked, the floor, it creaked. And now I wonder why. I think I may just cry. Digress.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.12.2009 @ 12:38 pm


Wag is such a simplistic phrase, happily the dog spends his days. Epitomizing a man made daze, a certain fashion, worriedly I wonder why he wags. And soon I realize this. He is hungry. As am I. And we smile together as friends.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.10.2009 @ 8:54 pm


Amazing sprinklers get me wet, light my soul like no tomorrow. Sprinkling down like stars on fire, my skin starts glowing from their touch. I laugh, I cry, sparkles in my eyes, and yet I try to run. Why do sprinklers leave us moist, when all the grass stays dry??

» Posted By Jenn On 10.08.2009 @ 2:56 pm


There was a clip in her hair, but most of the strands that were meant for its captivity had fallen out. It didn’t matter. The sun was shining, and the wind flitted through those reckless strands, brushing her check, reminding her that Spring was coming.

» Posted By Jenn On 03.29.2010 @ 9:45 pm


There was a tower, that lead up to nowhere. You could say it was like Jack in the bean stalk, but this tower really had no limits. One day, Jane decided to climb the tower. She was determined to find it’s end. She ran at first, climbing floor upon floor. She then got dizzy, running up the never ending spiral. She then walked and as she walked she began thinking about life. How endless life seemed, just like this tower. She began picking apart her life…

When Jane’s friends saw her the next day, they begged her to tell them where the tower ended. What magical place did it take her to? She told her it took her to her hope, her dreams, her life. She dared them to climb it too.

» Posted By Jenn On 03.17.2010 @ 5:05 pm


It’s rather weird that the word ‘clip’ means both detach AND fasten. Quite like an oxymoron, no? If you used it in a entence, like ‘I clipped the ropes,’ no one could really tell what you’re saying. It’d be cool to fool people, so one day I might put that in a book.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.31.2009 @ 1:16 pm


Stepping up to the microphone means performance. Performance means sweat. Sweat beads on your forehead. Fists clench. Weight shifts from left to right. Right to left. Butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.27.2009 @ 2:18 pm


I gave up caring about it, about this thing that happened between the four of you and us. I can’t bring myself to care anymore. No more thoughts I’m going to waste on you four back-stabbing, lying, thieving people who couldn’t even get your electric turned on. No, I’m done caring, and I expect you to be done too.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.17.2009 @ 8:59 pm


» Posted By jenn On 10.17.2009 @ 5:57 pm


» Posted By jenn On 10.17.2009 @ 5:56 pm


I asked her permission, but she denied me. This was typical, I was used to it. I had given up long ago that I may have the freedom I seldomly sought. But, no matter. Without her permission, my goal was futile.

» Posted By Jenn On 10.17.2009 @ 1:59 am


I was wondering how much money I could make. It was crazy, I was so desperate to get my hands on some cold hard cash. I was doing everything I could.. Underage gambling with teens, selling hard drugs in clubs, desperate to get my hands on something strong myself.. All I really wanted was something to knock me flat on my feet. Something strong, something beautiful, with a punch.. SOmething like cold hard cash, cocaine.

» Posted By jenn On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am


If you’re American, this word means one thing – dinero, cash, paper money. If you’re from rural western Canada, it might mean something more annoying or even ominous – check stops! Cops check for drunk drivers at places along the highway, stopping everyone with breathalyzers…

» Posted By Jenn On 02.07.2010 @ 9:07 am

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