Christmas Carol: “Bilbo Baby”

Posted: January 2, 2013 in Songs
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Bilbo baby, slip that One Ring under the tree, for me.

I’ve been an awful good elf

Bilbo baby, and hurry down the mountain tonight.

 

Bilbo baby, the original Sting dagger, too – that turns blue

I’ll wait in the Shire for you

Bilbo baby, and hurry down the mountain tonight

 

Think of all the adventures I’ve missed

Think of all the dwarves I didn’t kiss

Next year I wanna be in a cloak and hood

If you’d just grant my Hobbit wish

 

Bilbo honey, I want a sword to kill an orc

And I’m short

Just like you so please help me boo

Bilbo baby, and hurry down the mountain tonight!

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I Like to Write Because….

Posted: January 2, 2013 in x Miscellaneous
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I like to write because I don’t have great verbal skills.  I am more eloquent in writing.  I like to write because I am shy, and writing helps me express myself.  I like to write because I love reading, and wish to create similar masterpieces.  I like to write because it is an escape.  I like to write because I like stories better than real life.  I like to write because I enjoy having something to show, and receiving feedback.  I like to write because I daydream a lot, and like to put those scenes into stories.  I like to put my real dreams into stories, too, because they are eccentric and vivid.

I like to write because in second grade, I declared that I would be a writer (after my flip book was well-received by my classmates).  I like to write because people expect me to be a writer, because I declared it all throughout childhood and adulthood.  I like to write because it’s fun.  I like to write because it is empowering and I am my own boss.  I like to write because there are endless possibilities.  I like to write because there are no rules.  I like to write because I like creating my own worlds and stories.  I like to write because I am used to it.  I like to write because I like to make people smile and laugh.

I like to write because I believe I have many stories that are worth being told, and I like sharing my life experiences. I like to write because I would like to achieve recognition someday and meet my goals.  I like to write because I don’t like most other things, like science and politics.  I like to write because it allows me to still be a child at heart – to play pretend and to get lost in other worlds.  I like to write because it’s what I know how to do.  I don’t have many skills.

I like to write because it gives me a voice. I like to write because I like to see my name in print (or on screen).  I like to write because it categorizes me as an intellectual.  I like to write because it makes me forget to eat.  I like to write because I can do it forever and not get bored, and still have more ideas.  I like to write because I don’t need to look pretty to do it.  I like to write because I like to perform pieces of writing.  I like to write because it makes people consider my ideas and opinions.  I like to write because it helps me understand my life, and the world around me.  I like to write because it helps other people understand me and who I am.  I like to write because it’s all I know, and all I have.  Literally.  I’m broke.

12 Signs You’ve Been Unemployed Too Long

Posted: June 19, 2012 in x Miscellaneous
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1. You now watch shows like “The Bachelorette.”

2. You know every crevice of your room like the back of your hand.

3. The number of jobs you’ve applied to is higher than the number of Facebook friends you have.

4. You sing strange songs to inanimate objects in your room on instruments you don’t know how to play.

5. You actually have time to write.  And you do it a lot.

6. There is nothing left at home to clean out or organize.

7. You’ve read more than two books this year.

8. Getting up before 11am is considered getting up early.

9. You’ve seen your friends lately.

10. You applied to grad school.

11. You have separation anxiety from your laptop.

12. You make a list of signs you’ve been unemployed too long.

DREAMS: Muppet Battle

Posted: December 6, 2011 in Dreams
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There was going to be a big Muppet battle.  The last and biggest of their battles to end a long-going Muppet war.  I had just joined Kermit’s army.  I was fighting on the good guys’ sides.  The other side was a mob of mean, murderous Muppets.  I trained with Kermit’s army for weeks, until it was finally time to meet our enemies.

We made our way to the agreed upon battle site – a middle school gymnasium.  This was where it would all go down.  Muppets dying for what they believed in.  I was ready.  Ready to fight.  Ready to die.

We each had our own broom-like object that we flew on, soaring through the clear sky.  The object I was mounted on was a giant red Crayola crayon.  It was as thick as a lamp post, and as long as about 2 baseball bats.  I decided that I could also use my crayon as a weapon in the battle.

As I flew through the sky, I thought about how great it felt to fly.  So smooth, so relaxing.  I hoped that this wasn’t a dream.  It didn’t feel like one.  It felt so real.  If it was real, then I had just learned to FLY!  I would never have to sit through L.A. traffic again!  Traveling from now on would be relaxing, not stressful.

We finally reached the gymnasium, and landed right behind it.  We braced ourselves, and entered the building.  The hallway was dim, with only a few lights on.  We all took our fighting stance, as Kermit reached for the doorknob to the courts.   He opened it, and there was a silence.  We all froze, waiting for his command.

Kermit turned back to us. “They’re not here,” he said.  What?  Not here?!  We all began talking at once, our surprise and confusion causing a commotion in the group.  Kermit silenced us.  He found a note from their leader, and told us that they had backed out.  They surrendered.  They were too afraid to fight us.

Everyone else cheered, but I was angry.  No fight?  I had trained for weeks!  I had bulked up, worked my butt learning to fight like a warrior, and pumped myself up expecting a fight!  For nothing?  Those murderous Muppets who had hurt so many people, were afraid of fighting the sweet silly Muppets?  Outrageous!  Where was I supposed to channel my built up adrenaline?

“Dance partaaaay!” Fozzie yelled.  Suddenly, the lights in the hallway went even lower, and disco balls came down out of nowhere.  All the Muppets started dancing in their spots.  My anger immediately washed away and was replaced with excitement and delight.  Crazy Muppets!

I joined in the dance party, and we all laughed and danced away, weapons still in hand.  We eventually migrated to the courts, and continued our dance party.  Somehow, there was a punch bowl, and cups were being passed around.  Swedish Chef?  It was the most delicious punch I’ve ever tasted!  I’m pretty sure I saw some chickens being thrown around, too.  This whole event was bliss.  Muppets, flying, dance party, silliness, and delicious punch.  I was so happy.

Then I woke up.

JOKE: Chris Frown

Posted: April 21, 2011 in Jokes
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Chris Brown, also known as Chris FROWN, released a new album last week featuring his hit song “Deuces.”  And now he’s already working on a new song about himself, called “Douches.”

…”Say bye-bye to me.”

COUNTERSTORY: The Sweet Sorcerer Who is a Turtle and the False-Assuming Friends

Posted: April 18, 2011 in Short Stories
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THE SWEET SORCERER WHO IS A TURTLE AND THE FALSE-ASSUMING FRIENDS

 Written by Nahreen Tarzi

There once was a sweet sorcerer who was a turtle.  He lived in the woods, away from civilization, and was the Keeper of Peace for all wildlife.

One day, the sweet sorcerer who was a turtle was walking through the forest, on his way to visit his wise wizard owl friend. They were going to have tea and reminisce over all the magical battles they’ve had and all the innocent folk they saved over the years.

On his way over, the turtle saw a rabbit and a monkey standing next to the Lake of the Dead, an ancient lake full of evil alligators that eat even when they’re not hungry.

The alligators would not dare attack the sweet sorcerer turtle because they knew the potency of his power, but the rabbit and the monkey were just normal powerless animals, who looked really lost.

The sweet sorcerer turtle teleported over there to reach them as fast as possible and warn them about the alligators, so he could get them away from the lake.

However, as soon as the turtle appeared in front of the monkey and the rabbit, the two friends assumed that the sweet sorcerer turtle was evil and that he was trying to stop them for malevolent reasons.

The monkey took out a pen that he just happened to have, and threw it at the turtle. The pen exploded and drenched the turtle in ink, covering his ripped abdomen.

Unfortunately, ink was the one thing that made the sweet sorcerer turtle weak.  It burned his flesh, like when you put alcohol in a deep cut, but worse.

The sweet sorcerer turtle began crying in pain, and vanished into the sky, seeking refuge in the moon, whose moon dust could cure his wounds.  He sent word to the owl that he would be late for tea time.

The alligators saw this, and feared the creatures who wounded the all-powerful sorcerer turtle.  They dare not attempt to eat them.

The rabbit and the monkey walked around the lake, undisturbed, not realizing the danger they just evaded, and the innocent soul they just wounded.  The sweet sorcerer turtle wiped his tears and said to his friend the moon, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The End

STORY: The Pen is Mightier Than the Sorcerer Who is a Turtle

Posted: April 18, 2011 in Short Stories
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THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SORCERER WHO IS A TURTLE

Written by:  My Brother

There once was a rabbit and monkey who were very good friends.

They lived in England and had lots of fun and stuff.

One time they roamed very far and then realized that they needed to rush home for Christmas.

They were most of the way back when they happened upon a lake.

As they were deciding how to get across the lake, a hunky sorcerer who was a turtle appeared and tried to stop them for some unknown reason.

The monkey took out a pen and threw it at the sorcerer who was a turtle while the rabbit sat upon a rock and watched.

The pen exploded ink all over the well toned abdomen of the sorcerer who was a  turtle and he started to cry before vanishing into the sky.

The rabbit and the monkey then walked around the lake and got home just in time.

Also, they saw a Christmas tree by the lake and Big Ben was close by and there was a big star in the sky.

THE END

DREAM: Wizards, Lava, and Stabbing People

Posted: March 16, 2011 in Dreams
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A group of friends/co-workers and I were going to watch a live show in this lava cave.  It was like the cave of wonders from Aladdin, after all the lava erupted.

Our comedy producer was leading us. When we got there, we found out that she was a wizard (yes, female, but still called a wizard) and was being trained by Gandalf.  He was her mentor (lucky!).  This was her last assignment, and if she succeeded, she would become a full-fledged, all-powerful wizard.  Gandalf gave her some pointers, then left.  This would be a very dangerous quest – and we were all along for the ride.

Our “seats” were on this long, moving rock.  It swung slowly across the lava, as the live show went on.  Our comedy producer-wizard performed some spells and we were almost done, but the last part of the spell involved us all.  To complete the spell, we each had to stab someone in the lower back.

This one puny British guy somehow landed on our rock.  He was terrified and wanted to leave.  We told him if he wanted to get off this rock and go home, he needed to cooperate.  He finally agreed.

We had the British guy and few more people get on all fours, and I went first.  I stabbed my dagger  (don’t know where I got it) into the small of his back.  He screamed in pain and freaked out.  The others stabbed their pupils, and they grimaced in pain, but they dealt with it and didn’t freak out like the sissy British guy.

The wounds quickly healed, and our comedy producer told us to do it one more time.  I calmed the British guy down, then stabbed him again in the same spot.  He freaked out again and started throwing a fit, arguing with our comedy producer.  He hated me and thought I was doing it on purpose, to be malicious.

We had to switch places, and let others now stab us.  This would complete everything for the spell.  The lava was getting worse – splashing everywhere and growing higher.  Our rock was very close to being submerged in it.

We switched places, and I saw British guy coming for me.  He wanted to stab ME only.  I told him it was for the spell – I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but save him, and that he must stab me in the back only.  But it was no use.  He already lost it and was just trying to stab me anywhere.

Our comedy producer came over and pushed the British guy away to save me.  She told me to just stab myself, then decided to do it herself.  I got on all fours, while others came and held down the British guy.

She raised the dagger, about to stab me, and I closed my eyes to brace myself for the pain.  I was the last one who needed to be stabbed to complete the spell and save us all, and make our comedy producer the High Wizard.

The dagger came down.  Then I woke up.

POEM: What is a Girl To Do?

Posted: March 16, 2011 in Poems
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What is a Girl To Do

Written by Nahreen Tarzi  (c) 2005

 

What is a girl to do

when she likes a certain guy,

when she doesn’t know what to say,

when she can’t help feeling shy?

 

What is a girl to do

when she knows she’ll be no more than a friend,

when just can’t seem to make

her feelings come to an end?

 

What is a girl to do

when she can’t read his mind,

when she can’t tell whether or not

he is just being kind?

 

What is a girl to do

if she can’t turn her heart to stone,

and she just can’t help but feel

that she will always be alone?

 

What is a Girl To Do – Part II

Written by Nahreen Tarzi  (c) 2005

 

What is a girl to do

when she realizes he’s not the one,

when she just can’t understand

how she could be so dumb?

 

What is a girl to do

when he suddenly changes pace,

when her own naivety

slaps her in the face?

 

What is a girl to do

when his perfection turns to flaw,

and she just can’t help but wonder

what is was she saw?

 

What is a girl to do

when he’s turned her heart to stone,

and she wants nothing more

than to be left alone?

DREAM: Bloody Pirates of the Caribbean

Posted: March 8, 2011 in Dreams
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I was in the real life version of Pirates of the Caribbean.  My group was below deck on a ship, and we were in mortal danger.  One wrong move, and we could die.

This one strong old guy with a hat was leading us.  We started to make a break for it, and evil pirates came out of every corner.  Bloody battles!

We were all okay, except at the last minute, an enemy’s sword sliced off the old guy’s arm.  He screamed in pain, then killed the enemy. We were safe.

Looking at the guy’s bloody shoulder with no arm, I said, “well, at least the dog’s okay.”  We had a white fluffly dog with us.  Everyone agreed with me.

Then I woke up.

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