#AWESOME

The cracked flagstones of the country house looked disastrous with the freshly painted roof. The new owners had hideous taste, or so I thought. What was once a homey, cosy front window is now replaced with an aura of ominous mystery. Any sentimental attachment for this place had been abolished.  On a happier day, with the sun shining cheerfully through puffy white clouds onto our recently mown lawn... A memory I can no longer recollect.  Through my twisted core, the guilt of killing Fluffy and Sid, all I can see is the dilapidated remains of where I could truly relax.  I skirted around the empty log pile, which should have been full, as winter days were soon approaching. Nobody left knows how to tend to flowers. The delicate midnight blue pansies had vanished. This dropped me into an endless sense of trauma. My home had faded away.  I no longer recognised it.  Now fully grown, I can still see a ghostly figure of a child playing on the lawn: myself.  But I don't remember it... Who

There is always a point of time in a blog where no one has posted in AGGEEEESSSS, and, as my solemn duty as a guest blogger, I feel I must post something so that this non-blogging period will come to an end. It was on June 27th that I first witnessed Sir Arthur Smith. I remember he was nothing short of regal. He had on medieval knight armour and had a fine trimmed beard. He was also very tall, but not so tall that he seemed foolish or towering. Oh, and he was also very much a ghost. I discovered him in my attic, when I was looking for an old antique lamp my mother had stashed away somewhere; she now said it was valuable and a tiffany lamp. That was when I saw Sir Arthur Smith, his beautiful  sword poised over his head and his eyes stormy. Our conversation went a little like this: "I am going to kill you!" he screamed. "I beg your pardon?" "I am going to kill you!" "Well how are you going to do that if you're translucent and well...non-sub

I realise that my latest few posts are a bit bad... So I decided to make up to my fellow readers with a new series of Englishy stuff. Here goes... The room seemed much smaller than how I had remembered it as a child.  The faded leather of the sofa was still the same.  The redolent of the room was still the same.  And despite the dust, I could scrub away at the layers to my childhood. Climbing up the wall, my hands finding the nooks and crannies instinctively, I was able to burrow into the straw of the loft the way I used to... A harsh, nasal voice intervened in my peace.  I tunnelled deeper into the straw, hoping that this foreign being wouldn't locate me. "Hello the cottage," exclaimed the voice. A pair of rough, sun-browned hands reached through the hay and gripped my arms. "Do you think that we wouldn't find you here?"  I froze in shock. Takeshi had returned.

A great battle was fought. The Nameless One swung Green, slaughtering foe after foe, and his sister, Penny went to Hiems' peak, and indeed did she find what she was looking for, even through the bitter cold. Weapons did not mean victory, Order had become very powerful, Creativity was turning into Chaos. They fought many moons and many years, until Penny was an adult, and she wielded her daggers as well as her brother. They fought until oceans crumbled and the sky turned to glass and shattered and the ice turned to sky. They fought until the sky and the earth severed and then interlocked again, and the stars feel and the night was completely dark. But still they fought. They fought until they died, until the world burned and from the ashes, the new kingdom was gone. And that is why this story must be told.  The lady with the silver streaked hair and the stern blue eyes cocked her head at her granddaughter, reiterating the tale. "But why, granny?" "Orde

HHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!!!!! Dis, my readers, is my chance to get revenge on Jessica Gan for posting a stupid post about me that made me leave the blog. Anyway, now I have joined again.  That was a while ago.  Because a bunch of random people posted #WeLoveYouAnnie, totally not true, and I received two emails from the people who blog with me telling me to rejoin the blog or else. I wish I had thought of this idea earlier.  REVENGE! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHH! I will just copy the layout of Jessica's post, cuz why not? What Jessica is known for... 1). Being super-smart How many times has Jessica posted: Wahh, dis person ish so smart, dis other person aah, so englishy. Then she says: I AM DUMB!!!!! How is this true? Well, I disagree. Did I mention she always get 100% in any sort of test? 2). Pretending to be lazy Ahhhh, laziness, a quality I possess. See? At the beginning, everything was done on time, towards the end, nothing is done on time.  JESSI

Green had always known it was important. Creativity had created it out of mist and magic, and it was very, very important. Green was always "it" never she or him or they or anything else, not because it was disrespectful but, on the contrary, Green thought it made him rather respectable. It was proud to be an inanimate object, and prouder still, when it was wielded. It was an heirloom, the most significant, and most beautiful of heirlooms, or so it always thought. Ir was a singular deer horse knife, or crescent blade; it had no counterpart as he had no parallel. It was not the bright green of grass or the starling green of leaves, but rather, a quiet, dark green, one that seemed to pulse. And in its green, there were streaks of blue and yellow and purple, but only when held up to the light. It had been made of mist and magic and dark places, and when it was hidden in a cavern under the sea, it had marvelled at the bright fish and the many magical things of the sea, too hi

Eaten. The word hung in the room like an unwanted heat, stifling, oppressing. "Eaten?' she echoed, looking into his eyes, and seeing her own. It was peculiar, looking at someone who looked so much like her and yet so different. "Not literally," he looked at her a bit strangely after that, "But their souls get sucked up, and used as magic, Order magic." "That's just as bad!" "But they're still alive, they can speak and want and think, they just don't have anymore colour, that's all." "No colour?" "Figuratively. Literally they still have blue eyes or green eyes or whatever, and all sorts of hair. They just lack..." he gesticulated into the air, "Something." "How informative." "It cannot be described with words. For example, if you have never seen turquoise before, how could you possibly understand it? If you have never seen colours, how could you explain it? You will have

Frost clung to the trees of the Caledonian Forest. Louder than the rustling of the woodland creatures, the interruption fo the roiling clouds bashing together broke the silence of the serene, picturesque scene. Reverberating throughout the forest, the wind whistled through any cracks it's groping, freezing fingers, could find.  The taste of fear hung around the atmosphere like a cloud, stifling any signs of life in it's impenetrable folds. Fresh, crisp snow adorned every available area.  Except for the tree. It would have been taller than the other trees, despite the factor that the bark was twisted and crippled a third of the way up the tree.  It was almost as if if it were alive, it would have been hamstrung.  But why this tree wasn't festooned with snow was a mystery. If a tree could look enigmatic, this towering piece of nature would win first prize. Yet deeper into this seemingly endless copse of trees was a clearing.  A pond dominated this break of trees, the ice in s

This post title is another posh way to say: I HAVE RUN OUT OF IDEAS..... Let's just base this post on a random fact about a billy goat: Billy goats urinate on their own heads to smell more attractive to females. Here is a random story that I am basing on this fact... Unlike the other females who spent all their time giggling behind their hooves and pampering themselves with oils, making sure their fur was soft and appealing for the gentlemen, Celine would exercise her muscles and practise jumping over hedges so she could race horses.  The horses bred for racing in the field next door would constantly sneer at Celine, laughing brattishly at her attempts, as if she were nothing but a piece of rotting fish. But she would not be put away from her dream. Gaahhhh!!! I am way too lazy to actually finish this story so... There was this billy goat called Duerden who did not urinate on his own head, and Celine found that attractive, so she fell in love and then they got married..

AFTER  reading my last graphics post, I realised it was a tad bit short so I'll give you another one. :) If you'd like to see the other digital graphics post,  click here. I'll do this differently here; this time, I will list points and give examples after, instead of pairing the pictures and points. AND ALSO, AS I HAVE SAID, I AM NO PROFESSIONAL, I JUST LIKE GRAPHICS. DON'T ATTACK ME PLS. P O I N T S   T O   M A K E 1. Make text bold; you need to make sure you can see what your graphic is saying. 2. Keep it simple; by simple, I don't necessarily mean plain, I just mean that if you add too many bold patterns and colours and images, it will look too busy. 3. If it's something that you need to be noticed, like an ad or poster, try and use fonts that are trendy, because they would most likely be the most appealing. Here's a link to  some trendy fonts. 4. Fancy and/or kind-of-hard-to-read fonts should be left to titles only, because if y

The title explains it all.  Merely wind up a clock, that is all there is to it. Primero you pull up the weights using the chain Despues you move the hands until they are level with the current time Por ultimo you move the pendulum in one direction so that the mechanism begins to function Ta da!

LET'S  just say it's been a while. A long while. There has been so much on my mind, and I forgot that I could just lay it all down here. I missed this blog, and I miss the people in it. Okay, over with the cheesy sad stuff. You may be wondering if I'm dead, or if I'm okay. No? No one? Oh well. I am okay, and I'm not dead. I still love cats and the occasional useless graphic designing. All is well, and I am physically fine. Mentally, you could say otherwise. But that's a different story, and I don't need to worry you with all that. Anywho, what have I been doing? Where have I been? Firstly, I'm no longer in the same school as the rest of the bloggers in #AWESOME. I'm in a homeschool center now. It's basically like a tuition center, but I go there for about seven hours. I'm sure all my friends know that, but some keep asking. I can't promise I will post often, because I'm not so sure what to post. You will see more graph

The title explains it all. This title is another way of saying, I AM A PROCRASTINATOR.  Hehehehe. How to take 1 hour, Method 1: Have a sneaky YouTube tab open, and when someone comes into the room, swipe across the screen and pretend you are working. Method 2: Have a sneaky anime tab open, and do the exact same thing This is totally me!!!!! Hehehehehehehe. Wow, is "Hehehehehe" my new favourite statement or catchphrase or something? I seem to be saying that an awful lot. You can tell this is a different me. After the catchphrase line thingamabob, I didn't edit this post for precisely.... Erm...... Let me think.... Still thinking..... Thinking some more..... Precisely..... 1 month, 3 weeks, 5 days, 10 hours, 32 minutes, 14 seconds, 97 milliseconds... You can tell I made that up. I was procrastinating in the process of creating this post. It is literally procrastination world Everyone is procrastinating making a post.  Like Jessica Gan and h

So it was established that Penelope Grey had an older brother, who was quite clearly somewhat of a psychopath. She had been forced to believe him, due to the fact that the letter was unmistakably in her mother's hand, and he was clearly her brother; magenta eyes were incredibly rare, if nearly extinct. Catherine and Klaus were twins, both probably fifteen, they had matching hazel eyes and strawberry blonde hair. They did not say much and were thus dubbed inconsequential by the foolish Penny. "Where are Mother and Father?" "Secured somewhere safe." " Secured?  They aren't criminals!" "Actually they are." "That's not the point." "Then, what is?" "They're my  parents." "They're mine too, Penny. They are my biological mother and my biological father and they Sold me. They might as well have condemned me to death." "What do you mean?" "Most children who are Sold are.

The subtle smell of lavender wafted through the room, and Penny, strapped to a wooden chair by means or rope, stared at her "brother" in disdainful curiosity. "You wear...perfume? He scowled and held up a letter. "Scented." "You're a terrible brother you know, you knocked me out and strapped me to a chair." "Well, in fairness you tried to shoot me." "In case it has escaped your notice, the world isn't fair. However, you're pretty oblivious so it probably has." "Tell me again, who's in the chair and who's not?" "Why, have you forgotten?" "I could kill you." "Perhaps, but you're a lunatic; lunatics never act as expected." "I'm not a lunatic." "I don't have a brother." "Then who am I?" "A lunatic." He put his face in his hands. "Now what does the letter say?" she inclined her head as her hands were

There are many kinds of quiet. Quiet that is not properly quiet but when there's so much white noise you simply hear nothing. And everything. Dead quiet, although no human, who could hear sound, had experienced such until science created a vacuum sort of quiet and men and women experienced it and felt pain at the utter lack of noise. Quiet a person who cannot hear sound hears. The soft quiet of night with crickets and rustling. The soft quiet of the sun rising and the animals stirring. Penny did not wish to hear such silence. Because if it was silent, that meant that everyone had died. And she would be. Alone. A breath, Penny stirred from her hiding place and then slumped back down as she realised it was her own. Mother and Father had told her to get into the small space in the wardrobe; she would not. As she would not, they told her the truth. That if she were to be out, she would die, but that they might not die. Silence meant death. "Where is she?" Penny exhale

1 Genius Invention (Or So I think) When you swim in the sea, if you do, what happens to your eyes? When you swim in a swimming pool (OMG, a swimming pool is called a swimming pool because you swim in it, utterly genius.  However, that is not the geniusness of this post), if you do, what happens to your eyes? When you swim in a lake, if you do, what happens to your eyes? IF YOU ACTUALLY SWIM IN A BODY OF WATER, OR RUNNING WATER, OR ANY KIND OF WATER, WHAT HAPPENS TO YOUR EYES!?!?!?!??!?! Do they die? Are they red? Do they hurt? Do you not swim? Your eyes will probably hurt. Unless you are immune.  Which is cool.  I am yet to meet someone who is immune to the effect water has on your eyes. The Genius Invention: GOGGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Definition:    close-fitting   glasses with side shields, for   protecting   the eyes from glare, dust, water, etc. Yep, my eyes do need protection, so I can see the beautiful colours of the world. That is why gogg

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Malfoy, Snape, James, Ginny, Sirius, Neville, McGonagall, Hedwig, Lily, Sorting Hat, Newt, Quirrell, Dudley, Fred, Molly, Grindelwald, Ollivander, Arthur, Petunia, Oliver, Percy, Seamus, Vernon, Flitwick, George, Flamel, Peeves, Filch, Lavender, Fudge, Nearly Headless Nick, Fluffy, Sprout, Hooch, Crabbe, Pomfrey, Charlie, Helena, Marge, Griphook, Zabini, Goyle, Lee, Firenze, Angelina. Is that enough?????? That is the book.. Hehe. Philosopher's Stone: Harry finds the philosopher's stone. That is pretty much it.

Should I completely copy the layout of the other post, which is similar to this one???? Or should I be unique, with the saltiness of soup. Once, our family went through a faze where we ate nothing but this same soup for 1 whole week. I was tearing my hair out, I was down on my knees, and my house was soupy. Or not... And now, I cannot eat that soup, as tasty as anyone may think. The soup is salty. It is in a salty mood, but it is not peppery. Nor is it cinnamony... Is that even a word? I googled it, but it said "No Results Found", however, it isn't underlined in red... Very unreliable. On the topic of unreliableness, Google Translate translated 比赛 as "game". I was fuming... Anyway, saltiness is American informalness.  For angriness and resentfulness. Anywayness, Iness amness aboutness toness talkness aboutness saltiness (Finally, a wordness that makes sense) ofness soupness. Mission complete! Soup is salty, the end.

First of all, notice that this says passwords, not pins or anything else. Brilliant Password No. 1: "" I know.  You are blown away, such a brilliant and fabulous password, I mean, 11 letters, that's an achievement (On MacBook at least). Letters: e n t e r r e t u r n Wow!!!! That is genius.  It was Tif_Awesomeness that gave me that idea.  Another thing I thought was ingenious was sweeping up "LEGO Bricks" with a dustpan and brush.... So clever. Brilliant Password No. 2: "(caps lock)(A)(S)(D)(F)(G)(H)(J)(K)(L)(;)(')" Hint: The fast way to do this is to drag your finger in a long line across the keyboard.  Wow!!!!!!! This is cool because it is speedy, and efficient..... Brilliant Password No. 3: "(randomly chosen number)(something that you are not known for, so less people expect it)(another randomly chosen number)" Randomly chosenness is a good quality to look for in passwords, because then it is harder to gu

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I know we all offend him in our posts, well some of us. But it is time to establish the inevitable.  Toby is weird. Toby = A person Is = Third person singular present of 'be' (You can tell I stole that from a dictionary, I am nowhere near smart enough to know that off the top of my head) Weird = I'm gonna predict it means uncanny. Ah, I was wrong, it means suggesting something supernatural. Toby, are you reading?!? THIS MAKES YOU AN ALIEN OR SOMETHING.  THAT IS SO COOL.  GUYS, TOBY IS SUPERNATURAL. Gosh, it looks like I'm yelling or something with caps lock on. You should be part of the "Weird Sisters" from MacBeth by Shakespeare. I think it relates to "The Fate".  Sounds dreadfully ominous and forbidding, right? I think they are females.  Goddesses?!?!  This is off the top of my head, correct me in the comments if I am wrong. But I'm pretty sure Shakespeare meant that the weird sisters were meant to be witches... A fema

It is kind of offensive to call bread crusty. Crusty:  having   or acting   as   a   hard   outer layer or covering Crusty: easily irritated (especially of an old person) You could talk about the cool holes in bread, the fluffiness of the texture the crunchy crisp well baked shell of the bread. Or, on the other hand, complaining is necessary: The bread is irritable and snapped at me. Bread is crusty. It got annoyed at me when I ate it.  But then I couldn't hear it. So it rumbled in my stomach and corroded my small intestine and my large intestine and my liver.  And with my largest internal organ destroyed (corroded) I died. The bread took over the world. A lot like the chicken did. Read about the chicken. Click Here To Read About The Creepy Chicken And the bread took over the world. The first thing it did was destroy all the houses in Moldova to build a palace. But it was not satisfied with the palace so it destroyed all the houses in Luxemburg. An

Semibreve 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 8 Quavers = 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 16 Semi-Quavers = 8 Quavers = 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 32 Demi-Semi-Quavers = 16 Semi-Quavers = 8 Quavers = 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 64 Hemi-Demi-Semi-Quavers = 32 Demi-Semi-Quavers = 16 Semi-Quavers = 8 Quavers = 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve 128 Semi-Hemi-Demi-Semi Quavers = 64 Hemi-Demi-Semi-Quavers = 32 Demi-Semi-Quavers = 16 Semi-Quavers = 8 Quavers = 4 Crotchets = 2 Minims = 1 Semibreve And I don't know any more. I hope you learnt about a note tree Thank you! Bai!

This is a number. This number is big. But this writing is small. The number is: One billion, twenty nine million, three hundred and eighty four thousand, seven hundred and fifty six. That is a big number. But this is some small writing. There is a way to type this number easily. Use your keyboard and try to find the pattern. You type 1, then the number on the other side of your number keyboard then go back and there is the pattern. I hope you can read this. Because the number is big. But the writing is small. I don't know why I chose to write this small. Even though the number is big. Well, my writing is small. But not that small. It could be legible. Why do we say legible instead of readable? I don't know. It's like you say edible instead of eatable. Well those are just problems. Like this tiny writing. And this big number. That is the end. The end.

I have been to both posh and not so posh restaurants.  Both are good, in their own ways. Let's explore the good and bad about both. (Oh, and just for clarification, none of this actually ever happened for real, it is all made up...) Scenario 1 Me: Let's go to the really posh restaurant over there. Mum: No lah, we are wearing sweaty clothes and everyone else is wearing posh clothes. Me: No, not really. (We just happen to be wearing sweaty clothes that we just ran in) Me: But posh food is so good. (Actually, it's ok, but meh!) Mum: No can do, it's really pricey. Me: Fine then. Mum: Let's go to fast-food restaurant, we can takeaway! (I guess there is no arguing to that...) Scenario 2 Dad: Ok, guys, let's dress up in formal kit, we are going to a restaurant. Me: Where are we going? Mum: Oh, just to this mamak place down the road. Me: Why are we wearing formal attire?  It is seven o'clock in the evening and no-one wears a suit

Because I haven't posted for 1 billion years (Quotation from Elliethatnerd), I will type about this creepy stuffed chicken that is staring at me. It's beady little eyes have life, but it is not moving. Wait, actually it is moving. It has no legs, so it is gliding toward me... This is getting scary, I can feel the menace in the air. I think I am going to... HEEEEEELLLLL- Feel free to comment about me. I am Cheesy_Owl's voice mail. To ask a question, press 1. To make a comment, press 2. If you are alive, then congratulations. I am being attacked, and I am voicemail! Hello, I am backup voicemail. To ask a question, press 1. To make a comment, press 2. The chicken has taken over the world. The End I am aware this doesn't make sense, but meh!

Cheesy_Owl_82017_Pi (Who cares about symbols?) & A Peculiar Sort Of Author Once upon a time, lived a potato that became a something that carried a pink tissue box on it's unihorn.  But this story is not about a potato, but a slice of smelly Gouda that is full of brown holes.  And then the world exploded. or at least earth. So it was the supernova of the sun.  Turns out, aliens continued the stories of humans. So an alien called Zorgy, who lived on planet Zorg, and had a brother named Zorgeee, you see, aliens were very creative and mushroomy. However, their pet badgers had no creativity, they were called tchairovsky and Mchiedleburg, old bagder-zorgese for wise and potato soup.  Zorg was a squelchy planet where you waded through pleebles, which is basically turquoise mud. Gummy bears jumped through  clouds and descended from Planet Zibl, which hosted the Zorgishnians cousins. Which were called Ziblshinians, because these aliens were creative. They are almost like the humans t

Annie and Jess ... We each write 5 words 5 words and make a story... LET'S GO!!! No deleting, and no swear words! Once upon a chicken, there was some bread that was mouldy. One day, an idiot whose name was Annie Jakes-McKay, who was actually very smart, clumsily fell into a creek. She also happened to eat the bread that we mentioned at the same time - yay! It gurgled in her stomach, soaking up all its acid and suddenly, the digestive juices combusted and Annie was scarred. F ortunately, Jessica got the scar but Annie got it too.  Miraculously, Annie's scar disappeared forever but she was forever burning.   A rock where Jessica lived fell down and squashed her but she was so smart that she dived away and met Annie for some curry which was super duper tasty.  Transportation to Cambridge was activated, where Annie found a large split pea that was incredibly long. It got roasted so she ate the pea and stopped burning but set fire to the nearby village, killing all the innoce

Are you ever super super  super bored and have absolutely nothing to do? Well, that won't be the case any longer as there is a game I LOVE to play called "the riff off". How: One person starts singing a song. They stop on a word. Someone in the group around them hits the (water bottle) in the middle of the table. They take over from that word. SO ON... Example: 1 - (RISE UP) You're broken down and tired, of living life on a merry go round... 2 - (STAY) Round and around and around and around we go... 3 - (LET IT GO) Go, let it go! Can't hold it back anymore... 4 - (JAR OF HEARTS) Anymore, you lost the love I loved the most. I learned to live... 5 - (WRITINGS ON THE WALL) Live, how do I breathe, when you're not here I'm suffocating, I wanna feel love, run through my blood... 6 - (BAD BLOOD) Blood now, oh, it's so sad... 7 - (YOUR SONG) Sad songs anymore, only wanna hear love songs... AND IT CAN GO ON FOREVER...

Dear Diary,  I have no where to live. I have no frens.  I have nothing. Now I have to survive in the Plugworld all on my own. Today I walked to Ms Ellionock's house. At least I think that it is her name. I forgottened it. She lives in a very pretty house and I went to her to get help to make a new house. But, when I reached her house, no one was there! OH NO! Now I have to live in the jungle! But there is no jungle also! OH NO! In the distance, I found a tree. It is tall and I can probably make a house in the tree if I can do it. I collect wood and things and soon I make a house on the tree out of another tree so it is weird.  YAY!  My house is finished! Now I can stay in the house which is made of tree on another tree. I am so proud that I am going to name my treehouse. I am going to call it either: Tree on another tree (TOAT) My tree house called tree (MTHCT) This tree is amazing and it is my home (TTIAAIIMH) A chicken died in the process of ma

To those of you who were tricked by Jessica Gan's recent post... Well, if I come to think about it, the post wasn't that recent. The "Acronyames" post.  I am really put off. However, I know I am wasting your time by saying this, but I bestow apologies upon my readers for my lack of posting.  I have an extreme case of "Posting-o-itis" which is a case that I possess. I am in deep trouble.  I am already on stage 1987.... And that's the penultimate stage... I feel nausea, there are dark spots clouding my vision, and I feel the end is near. And that Jessica Gan, she tricked all you readers into thinking it was easy to come up with those lies about me. I will reveal the truth!!!!! Shortly... Ultimately, (and firstly), I am a human.  Sometimes, I think I am a chicken. Or even an otter. Ok, Jessica Gan says it was easy to come up with an acronyame for me, talking about false rumours that make me innovative, excellent and amazing (nice and

WOW  it has been such a long time. To be exact, about 3 months. I think. On to the topic of this post. So, there are loads of situations that you may get yourself into like a party or gathering, and sometimes you just don't feel like socialising therefore you don't want to go. It happens. Instead of hurting your friends' feelings by saying you don't want to go, here are some safe ways to get out of being a social human being. 1. My sister/brother/mother/father/relative is sick and I promised to take care of them. 2. I think I'm becoming sick. 3. There's a family thing I have to go to that day. 4. Something unexpected and super personal happened. (only works if it's last minute) 5. I have to study. 6. I have tuition/dance class/some other out of school activity 7. It's my rest day, I've been busy non stop this entire week. AND THAT IS ALL. But to be honest guys, please try not to lie. If it's a close friend, then you sh

Xy knows what this is.  I know what this is. It is a thing.  (Wow!!!!!!!  I bet you didn't know that...) I am a thing. There are particles so small, they pass through us every single day!  (Wow, that's even cooler). A Chinese Yoyo can also be known as a diablo.  It is typically used in Spanish theatre. (Oops, I stupidly didn't realise this until 3 months after I posted this post. Diablo actually means devil.  A chinese yoyo can also be really known as a diabolo , hehe, I am so informative) The ratio of chickens to humans is: 2:1... How nice... A diablo can be thrown as high as a building. All the termites in the world weigh more than all the humans. Xy and I have the same diablo; except hers has her Chinese name on it. The Queen Termite in a hill gives birth to 800, 000 termites a day... Sometimes, Xy and I play catch with the yoyo. I hope you enjoy my uninteresting facts and silly ones about Chinese Yoyo's particles, chickens, and termites. Tq