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m (moved User:Pelargonium/Kite to User:Paizuri/Kite: Automatically moved page while renaming the user "Pelargonium" to "Paizuri")

Latest revision as of 21:38, April 4, 2010


Much like little Timmy down the street, these deer will never see their homes again.

There is no better example of Murphy's Law in action then a kite. Think back to your childhood, flying that wonderful new kite out back and the wind hit it just wrong. You watched your kite hit a tree and there it stuck. Maybe the string caught fire and acted as a fuse which lit the entire forest up. The flames leaped higher and higher and all you could do was watch in horror. Or maybe it just stuck there flapping in the wind. But you aren't bitter about it. No, not you. Instead, you just went home and watched Barney while the entire forest was going up in flames. Good thing the army was sent in to help the firefighters, cops, and civilians put out the fire before it reached your house, right? Heck, little Timmy down the street will never see his house or his parents again, and here you are, sitting in front of your brand new computer your daddy bought you, looking up porn while your parents are out partying. Sick. You make me sick.

edit It was

A beautiful sunny day in Ratchahackett, Alabama. It was Friday, and you had just gotten out of another great day in your perfect life as a 6th grader at Atticus Saul Junior High. You were just learning your place in the world, and, having expanded your vocabulary just in the last few weeks, were feeling pretty confident you could take on anything. Except for that wild, flaming kite of terror and death, of course. But we'll get to that.

edit You were

Just getting home from school after beating up the local nigger with your friends. It was the day before your birthday, and you had been bugging your parents about buying your a super cool flammable kite to show off to your friends. Not that regular kites aren't flammable, of course. But you wouldn't just settle for any old kite. No, you wanted the "Super cool flammable kite" you saw at your local Wal★Mart. Why they were selling something dangerous like that, I don't know. All I know is, you were a crazed 12-year-old pyromaniac and something was gonna go up in flames, whether we liked it or not.

edit So

Your dad, after having been bitched at (by you, of course) for a stupid amount of time, finally gave in and bought you the Super cool flammable kite you had wanted since you overheard that 8th grader say it was a "Hella cool idea."

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