Thursday is pirate day. Arr.

Welcome! It's time for some all original Keith humour!

What did the strawberry say to the sad blueberry?
You look blue, berry."

What did the guy cucumber say to the girl cucumber?
"You look cute, cumber."

What did the Pharoah raspberry say to the slave strawberry?
"Get me some straw, berry!"

What did the doctor watermelon say to the sick raspberry?
"Looks like you've got a rasp, berry"

Cue laughter.

I hate how blind I am. I hate how I'm not good at things I think I'm good at, and good at the things I don't think I'm good at. I hate how I don't understand anything. I hate being blind.

-

It was a quiet day in a quiet life. Grey skies stretched overhead, and a cool drizzle fell onto the warm earth, absorbed thirstily by the parched ground. The sun was hidden, but a small portion of the sky was lighter than the rest, giving reassurance that it would appear again, when the rain stopped falling. A tall tree spread out its branches, almost leaning forward to catch a few of the small drops. Under one of its lower branches, a silent figure sat, a teenager of no more than seventeen years, clutching onto a small fragment of paper, an envelope crumpled at his side. His soft brown eyes stared at the solitary word written there, reading it again and again, his face distorted with sorrow and love.

"Goodbye."

The note crumpled in hand as he rose, his eyes now staring desperately, his bare feet leaping forward in panic, and he screamed just one word, over and over.

"Nooo!"

"Why not?! What's your problem geek-butt?" The group of guys who loved targeting the weak were surrounding the unpopular kid, cornering him in beside a few lockers. Jovan sighed as he walked passed, wishing that he could do something about it. He turned around his last corner, just before the exit, when he saw her. She was walking towards him, and he wondered what was up. It wasn't that it was something new, but these past few days...They met in the middle of the corridor, and for a few moments, neither spoke, they just looked at each other's eyes. It was kind of a tradition of theirs, they had always been able to tell what the other wanted, just in the first few moments. He was scared by what he saw, the pain and...something else he couldn't quite get a grasp on. It made his stomach turn, though. He finally knew it had been a mistake not to talk to her, even if it had been only three days. She knew that he saw it, and she lowered her gaze, and started fumbling in her purse, whispering something about a note. He forgot about his fear, and his heart started to race with expectation, hoping against all hope...She passed him an envelope, decorated with silver stars and ridiculous caricatures. Her face smiled at him, her lips parting very slightly, and she told him to wait, to open it under their tree, the one that they had claimed as their own just a few months ago. He smiled back at her, and promised that he would. But her eyes...

"Will you remember me?"

They were walking together along an old country road, just the two of them, walking for the sake of walking. The sun's rays stretched lazily across the ground in front of them, and a gentle breeze stirred the branches of the tall trees that stood guard for them as they wandered past. Her hair, long, straight, light-brown hair, rippled as the wind breathed through it. She really was beautiful, her light brown eyes, almost matching his, dancing with a playful spark of happiness and adventure, echoed the joyful spirit that he knew lived in her heart. The question startled him.

"Of course I'll remember you...you're not leaving, are you?"

"No. Not right now, I mean. I don't really know."

"Is there something going on? Is it your family again?"

She turned slightly, facing away from Jovan. He wished he could see her eyes.

"No. My family is cool for now. I'm just...tired, that's all. Not just sleepy, but really tired. Tired of everything. I need something to happen, Jovan, something that will wake me up."

Jovan slowed his pace, and turned towards her, and she turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met, and Jovan almost started crying.

"Tianna, don't." Jovan's voice had an almost unnoticeable tremor. "I need you here. Something will happen, don't worry! Hey, I have an idea." Jovan's voice grew stronger. "Let's sit by this tree, and just wait together. Maybe, just maybe, something will happen while we're there."

She smiled at him, and they sat there together, and talked of many things, of girls and guys, and men and mice, and as they sat, the sun sank beneath the horizon, leaving a streak of orange and pink across the vast canvas of the sky, and the stars arose from their slumber to cast their twinkling light upon the two that sat there, waiting. And as they rose to part ways, a streak of fire lit up the sky above for a brief moment, and they dedicated that tree to their friendship at the same moment, and they felt that the world was at peace with them.

"Tianna, wait!" Jovan's panicked voice echoed across empty fields and silent forests, as he stretched his legs to the max, dirt flying up behind him. His heart pounded in his chest, all the fear that had been growing over the past couple of weeks that he had pushed aside was finally confirmed, and the guilt of it tore him into shreds. He barely even slowed as he reached her driveway, and leaped up the few steps that led into her home. He didn't have time to knock; he knew there would be no one home anyways. Her bedroom door was open, and as he slowed his pace and entered, the first of many tears trickled down his cheek. The letter was there, as he knew it would be, and with trembling hands he unfolded it, and started to read:

"Dear Jovan,

I'm sorry. I had to do this, you know. I was just going to go crazy here, and I didn't want to take you down with me. I really do love him. Whenever I'm around him, he lets me know how much he cares for me, and I know that I'll be happy with him. Please, don't miss me too much. We had so many good times over the past few months. You were the best friend I ever had. You were like a brother to me, and I tried to be a sister to you. Maybe one day, we'll see each other again, and we'll all be happy. Goodbye.

- Tianna"

The tears stained the page as he read it, and somehow, he knew that she wasn't happy, and that she was not ok. He never told her, he never could have, and he knew it was better that he hadn't. But somehow, reason wasn't good enough, and he knew he had lost a treasure, and it had fallen among the swine. He should have held her tighter, helped her better, loved her more. He was on her bed now, her pillow wrapped around his face, and he thought of death. And on a back country road, far away, a car was parked at the side of the road, and unheard screams echoed all around.

First time snowboarding = Sore muscles

Second time snowboarding = Concussion

This is great. I dread what's going to happen my third time...Not that that will stop me.

You know what I hate? I hate knowing that something is going to hurt like crazy in just a few hours, and, there's nothing you can do about it expect wait. This cinnamon bun is making me feel better(thanks for that, btw :P).

I want to be lost...lost in imagination. I want my mind to wander to some far-off place, to forget the things of now. I want to deal with black and white, not grey. I want to talk and listen, and not be afraid. I want to show the truth to the entire world. I want to walk into a dark alley, and find a friend. I want to love the unloved. I want to free the scared and lonely from their fear. I want something, somehow, somewhere.

Strumming...strumming on the guitar. He sang softly to himself, a song of terror and rescue, a song about the morning light. His eyes burned with all the years of silent tears and untold fears. He thought of all he'd said and done, all his fame, all his life's work. He looked at his hands, wrinkled and fading, fading away with the rising sun. The words he sang caught in his throat, and died away. He sat silently, the guitar fallen to his side, his fingers shrivelled and useless. He had wanted something, years ago. He felt his breath begin to slow, he felt his heart working harder, he felt his blood rushing towards his head, and he fell to the ground, collapsing into a limp pile of old skin stretched over old bones. And finally, a tear fell from his eye, and he slowly turned his head to look out of the window, and he saw light finally streaking over the horizon. He breathed, trying to speak, and at last, in an almost unheard whisper, he said, "I want something, somehow, somewhere". He sighed out his last breath, and his bones crumbled into ash, and a breeze finally swept through the room, and he was no more.

Twas a dark and stormy night, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
And a tapping sounded on my bedroom wall,
"Tap, Tap, Tap."

I looked out the window, and what should I see?
A figure of shadow, beaming with glee.
And to the door I made my way, gliding softly o'er the wooden stairs,
"Creak, Creak, Creak."

Quoth the shadow, "Nevermore."

And high above us earthly folk, the clouds swirled and the snow fell,
The wind blew sharp, and the storm did swell,
And the footprints behind faded, into the white that surrounded us,
"Crunch, Crunch, Crunch."

Quoth the shadow, "Nevermore."

What happens next? Will the author reach his destination alive? Who is this mysterious "shadow"? And what is important enough to cause someone to venture out on the worst night of the year? It all will be revealed, next week on..."

*click*

Good morning ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the celebration of this network's 100th broadcast! It's been a great run over these past few years, sometimes it looked as if the show might not go on, but go on it did! I don't think any of this would have been possible without the help, support, and love from all of our friends, family, and who could forget, God. I don't have time today to thank all of you individually, but I can assure you that if we know who you are, you probably have, in some way, affected the course of this show, so thank you for making all of this possible. It doesn't look as if things will be changing too much for us, but I can tell you, things will continue to move at a steady pace. Thank you, all of you. Now back to our main programming, take it away...

*click*

It's VALENTINE'S DAY, in only TWO DAYS! Don't wait, send a heart to your sweetheart TODAY! Here's what Valentinia's biggest customer had to say about our products. Vic? "I've always had a secret crush on a certain person, and, I finally decided to share it with them just a few hours ago. Let me tell you, it was the best thing that's ever happened to me. The two of us are already starting plans for the wedding. I don't think I could have summoned the courage without the backing of Valentinia's great selection of quality products. It gives..."

*click*

"George...please, don't leave me like..."

*click*

Welcome to today's edition of DEEPER THINKING! In this episode, we plan to dive into the essence of what makes a bedroom, really a bedroom. Some people cling to the dictionary definition, insisting that without a bed, it can't be a bedroom, and if it has a bed, it's a bedroom. But Deeper Thinking challenges that antiquated idea, and will present to you these three points: One, that bedrooms hold more value than simply physical replenishment. They hold sentimental value, so much, in fact, that it defines your bedroom. Two, the sentimental value of a bedroom is not affected by the bed, which could easily be replaced by another piece of furniture, except in special cases. Three, that since the sentimental value of a bedroom is not affected by the bed, and since the sentimental value is what defines a bedroom, therefore, a bedroom can exist even if it does not contain a bed. That's coming up, right after commercials, so give us a call and tell us what you think! Call 1-800-3...

*click*

*click*

*click*

*click*

"And finally, we have an exclusive preview of what the mysterious stranger was REALLY after."



*click-click*

For the past few days, I have been unable to blog. The problem is now fixed, and I am very happy :). Now all those weighty things that have been pressing on my mind can finally flow forth in that peculiar mix of verbs and nouns(yes, I am delibately not mentioning the proper classifications of all those other word forms) which results in intelligient communication. 

I missed blogging.

It hurts...a lot. I didn't even notice before.

Did I mention that snowboarding is INCREDIBLE?!