Writing

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= = An old man with no hair and wears panty hoes over his head was stumbling along to the laundry mat to wash his panty hoes. On his way there he fell into 100 meter deep pothole with water beds at the bottom.

While that was happening some evil simise triplets called Walt, Tib and Wilf woke up to a sweaty nightmare. They all went for a glass of water and all went in different directions and ended up breaking 4 of Tibs bones. It sounded like an m16 gun going off.

After 3 hours 26 minutes and 16 seconds the man with no hair realized he wasn't at the laundry mat. So he took off his panty hoes, brought out a lighter that a bear that can read peoples mind gave him earlier that day and lit his panty hoes to get fire. He walked about 2 steps and smacked into a toilet seat racer powered by poo that has been genitally enhanced.

The evil simise triplets sole a demented fat pig with a taxi sign ion the pig’s sides. It took them a long 16 hours but since they had a brain the size of a grain of sand they never thought of stealing one of those 100's and 1,000's of Porches with keys hanging from the doors. They finally got to their secret hidout. It was their old school in the middle of nowhere. They almost didn't get find it.

Since the toilet seat racer was powered by poo the old man had to eat 62 cans of uncooked Waties baked beans to get to the first place he saw witch was an old school in the middle of nowhere. He meets up with some simise triplets playing a random game of poker. After a long exacting 16 minutes then man with no hair lost his burnt panty hoes and his lighter. But on a good note he won a week worth of free after school care.

That night, he learned how to make a never ending long drop that never ends. At midnight he went to bed but couldn't sleep so he got a midnight snack. On the way back he slipped over a pancake with maple syrup on it and fell into the never ending longdrop. Now he is in Neverland because he will never land!



THE DEVILS MATCH

The glistening light that fills the room The colour of a flower about to bloom The devilish face in despair The cloud of smoke that fills the air

The abandoned colour of an old brick wall The vital smoke that kills us all The skinny stick about to crack The depressing background of pitch black ss The creepy feelings of termination The worrying thoughts of devastation The crazy consequences of no maturity The excitement of fireworks mystery

By: George and Jack

=And this is what I read =

It was a quiet autumn morning and the sun was filtering through the window. The house was deserted, they were all out doing things, I was alone. With my heart in my mouth I crept up the attic stairs looking to continue the exploration that had been interrupted so suddenly yesterday. Gently opening the door I peered in, everything was still the same, no-one had been up. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved over to the rickety shelves in the corner. A beam of sunlight clawed its way through the high window and shone on the pile of old newspapers I had stacked up by the bottom shelves in an attempt to reach the thing on the top shelf. Some were scattered on the floor where they had skidded when I jumped and ran yesterday. I still didn't know what had made the noise! Gathering the newspapers and courage I gingerly climbed on to the stack - it shook more than a bit. Using the shelves like rungs I was just able to reach the object I had seen. Panic and exertion made my fingers tremble as they hooked at the hard dry surface. Pulling it off the shelf I skied down the newspaper stack and landed in a heap on the floor.The object landed solidly beside me.Looking down I saw it was a very old book with a crinkled and cracked cover. I picked it up and gingerly opened it to the first page. It was covered with dust. I blew gently and these words leapt off the page.

And this is what I read

My Journal

I stood there, I stood while she was dyeing, while she lay in the corner slowly getting ripped up by her lung cancer. I could have saved her. That was when I decided that there had to be a way to help. Everyday for three years I studied every molecule of the lung and everything that caused lung cancer. Then finally after the years of hard work I was ready.

The first day of my experiment didn’t go as planed, a old time friend and my teacher of science heard about my experiment and wanted to help. He knocked on the wooden door, just as I was going to start mixing the frog saliva with potato juice.

I let him in and we both had a sip of whisky, then we got on with it. While we mixed the last ingredients into the big steel pot, we had a chin-wag about how our life's have been up to the point where he walked into the door. He said something

I didn’t know what it was, it sounded Jibberish.

He left after that, he galloped away into the mist of the night sky .I went to bed that night wondering what he said. I keeped remembering he always used to whisper to him self “I will get through it, I will get through it” It just clicked to in my head, what he was saying wasn’t jibberish it was his special language he always talked about using when he was older.

The language he was speaking was what he called calwakisakia. I thought about it, and it said “HELP ME, I have lung cancer you are the only one who can help you know where I live.” I quickly took a bottle of the thick creamy syrup and ran. I ran to my horse and galloped away to my old friends house and tied my horse up. I sprinted into the house it was to late he lay in the middle of the floor dead.

=My Poem = == =The Sparkling Star= = = The piercing sun that shines on a star The light beam spreads long and far The deep shadows falls across the sky The delicate trees grow like a magpie The morning breeze rustles through the air The misty town groans like a bear The dark, gray clouds lets the sun shine through The brightness makes the sky turn blue

By George Young

=The misty waters= The rough current washed the rocks clean The muddy dirt floated down the stream The fish are fighting for their life But they all know they are in a bit of strife The water runs across the the mountain The liquid flows like a fountain One tree’s shadow falls into freedom The whole lot would looks like a kingdom The algae grows back so fast We don’t even know if it will last

By George Young

= Auckland Bridge =

Auckland harbor Bridge is tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down. Auckland harbor Bridge is tumbling down, My midget lady.

Smash it down with bendy glass, Bendy glass, bendy glass, Smash it down with bendy glass, My midget lady.

Bendy glass will snap and shatter, snap and shatter, snap and shatter, Bendy glass will snap and shatter, My midget lady.

Smash it down with gold and silver, Gold and silver, gold and silver, Smash it down with gold and silver, My midget lady.