“Jabba,” because everything about him screams, “I’m repulsive!” From his nail fungus to the growth on his face. From the way he spits when he talks to the way he smells like booze and B.O. Nope! Forget it!
Happy December, everyone! I just wanted to put my Christmas list in a convenient location for my family so here it is!
The Abhorsen Trilogy
- Amazon gift card
Borderlands: The Handsome Collection Candles(Frostbeard Studio candles and the wooden wick ones are pretty cool) Christmas ornaments Fun socks Hickory Farms Lotions New journal Nintendo Store sweatpants(here’s looking at you, Dave :P)
- Oversized sweater
- Popcorn tin
- Tattoo fund contribution
*Not a prompt
This person is a really good actor. He can make people believe he’s a completely different person and they love him.
He has an incomparable grasp of the English language. He has such a way with words and it has nothing to do with his background in journalism.
His sense of timing in impeccable.
No two days are ever the same with him.
Unusual. The sky above the neighborhood was nearly black, but you could see pink and orange in the distance coming from the freshly setting sun. The colors quickly disappeared when the storm clouds crossed the sky. Then it was like night.
He sat with his head directly in front of the fan, sweat dripping down his face and off the tip of his nose. His shirt clung to his skin and he wearily stripped it off, dropping it to the floor beside his bed where his shorts and boxers had already been discarded. He reached for the glass of ice water on the nightstand only to find it was just water. He finished the glass in one gulp and rubbed it across his forehead before replacing it in the puddle of condensation.
Turning toward his only window, he glared at the broken air conditioner. Of all the days it could stop working it had to be this one. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do because the city had practically shut down due to the unexpected heatwave.
Groaning, he fell back and lay spread-eagle, allowing the slight breeze from the fan to reach his obscenely sweaty crotch. I’m going to die, he thought, staring at the familiar crack in the ceiling. My roommates are going to find my shriveled, dehydrated corpse and say, “Wow, this idiot deserved to die because he couldn’t afford a decent air conditioner, let alone rent.”
Resigned to his fate, he closed his eyes and concentrated on what little comfort the fan brought him and his balls.
The sound of chalk on the blackboard echoed throughout the quiet room. The sleep-deprived students in first-period algebra stared blankly at the board, trying to follow the teacher’s problems. Most had spent all of last night trying to comprehend what they learned yesterday. Most failed.
The teacher stopped writing, turned to face the classroom, and took a seat at her desk.
They had 30 minutes to answer all five questions.
“Uh-huh…” uttered one boy, turning to his best friend in the seat next to him.
“Urrrr…” the other boy responded. He tapped his girlfriend’s shoulder, who conveniently sat in front of him. Usually she would keep her paper in his line of sight but today he could not see anything.
His girlfriend jumped and turned to look at him, her eyes half-shut and unfocused. He nodded toward the board and she shook her head with a shrug. “Mm-mmm…” She moved her paper so he could see it and all that was written was her name.
“Umm…” He turned to his best friend and also shrugged.
The first boy groaned and rested his forehead on his desk. There was no point trying. He was just going to sleep until the period was over.