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darrean May 2018
Ms. Gilley vs. Mr. Frame
By Darrean Thompson
10/19/16

One day at school we heard a crazy unexpected announcement by Ms.Gilley.   Everybody gasped as they heard her say  “the teachers want us to wear uniforms at school from now on.  Boys will be wearing blue suits with red ties.  The girls will also have the same colors but can choose between a skirt or pants.  We will give you each three outfits every year.”

Soon as Ms. Gilley put the microphone down, Mr.Frame came on the announcements yelling “there will be no uniforms.” We all yelled “hooray” while plugging our ears.  We could hear them arguing, Mr. Frame must have dropped the microphone and not turned it off.  They were very loud and we wondered who would win. The kids were split on this, half wanted Ms. Gilley to win.  The other half wanted Mr. Frame.

The kids started a riot, they were throwing desks and shooting pencils everywhere.  The teachers were running door to door asking the kids to stop.  The kids did not stop. The teachers went into the Teachers’ Lounge to hide from the kids.  I, Darrean Thompson, decided to try to fix this.  I followed the teachers looking for Mr. Frame and Ms. Gilley.

I found them having a paper ball war from their offices. I yelled “Stop with this war. This is idiotic. Why can’t we just wear the uniforms if we want?”

Mr. Frame and Ms. Gilley gave each other a look and said “hmmm...it just might work.”

Ms. Gilley picked up the microphone, which was still on, and said “Kids we need to stop.  Thanks to Darrean Thompson’s great idea, we have decided that you can choose to wear the uniforms or not.”  

The whole school started to cheer and I saved the day!


jack lile copper goldy shine star

By Darrean Thompson

There are 4 dogs jack,lile, copper and goldy and their friends who are cats  star and shin. hay jack lets go to the barn said copper. ok, I am coming . goldy should we follow them said lile I guess so said goldy .they went to the barn and they see star and shin on a cow then they came down to play they played with the sheep and the Chicken. then the farmer came in and pick up star and shin then we followed him to the house for food.2 hours later
Shin is asleep, lile, jack also asleep .copper and goldy went and played in the field and they saw a wolf it got goldy !!!!!!!! noooooooooooo! copper went to shin star lile jack. jack asked what happened. well me and goldy went to play in the field and there was a wolf it got goldyJack lile copper star shin r on their way to get goldy.they found a trail and they went on the  trail.Then in has be to hours later they see a cave and they go in the cave and they saw the wolf and goldy the wolf went back to awer house . we r have way there and it's night we go to sleep and wake up at the house . i guess it was a dream we all  said. Then the wolf was at the trail and then jack blinked and it was gon
lock
One day a man name Arthur his friend max. They went in the wood it was dark they went to find the dog .
Then they fell in a bomb shelter. Then the door shut they find the dog they find a switch for the lite .They wear trap the good side is  they have food.
Day2 they got 1 can to eat they found cards but they had no signal on their phones we played  so we played cards
Day3  we got bord so we tried to get out we can't it opins on the outside then we ate a can
Day4 it is max's b day  we can't celebrate it  
Day??  We had 6 cans in these days we have 95 cans left
Day23 We think we find a plugin we carg our phones  we have games but they get boring
Day 24 we get out from lile and we were glad
lori

Where was a bubble and it had a house in it and there was a cat cloud their pusht it . lori walks in the bubble and she is imagining her violin at a quiet place it has be sometime now she said . I need to get out,  then she is in the forest and she sees a ******* a swig she goes to see her face and she sees her face and it was her and then she wakes up in her house. And then she asked her parents to ask if there is a bubble house.
The End
love it
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
buying three litres of jack daniels...
at... £20 a a litre -
which is £12 short from the original
selling price...
  (so i've saved a total of
£36... which, at the current selling
price is... £4 short
of two bottles for free)...

   that i would love to believe in
dr. strangelove - and a very real fear &
potential of an atom bomb...

the spectacle of awer...
        how the 20th century could be
a casper -
             but not now...
   i could ask for a blissful sentence of
an asylum - but this current: society
of sociopaths...

  i just can't: beside the don't...
        that there is some fledgling will:
otherwise the negation of want...

well yes... bourbon is whiskey with
some maple syrup...
        i get it now...
                   maybe flashing a u-boat
on the drive...
perhaps taking time to cling
to a bucket list and parachute ****-naked...
buy and subsequently heave
20 years for petting a labrador...

there was a trickling uncertainty
when jerking off and there was....
shyla stylez...
                 born 1982... oh...
found unresponsive in her bed by
her mother... aged 35... in 2017...

it's such a pity to have such a...
monstrous high-blood pressure in
the constraints of the phallus...
i forget the puritan...
if i get away with pursuing
the orthodox guillotine
of a missing *******...
     then again:
     it would be impossible to *******
without any *******...
i guess i'm playing the joker hand...
on the toilet...
**** like a tease...
mrs. no. 1 & 2... subsequently no. 3...
it's not spectacular...
no satans are being deployed
into the air... no scented candles...

it's like a spectacle of inverting
the time it would take for wood to rot...
or ****** on mushy peas...

      oh sure... i could write of
the blue pill platonism...
                   but it's so impossible
to lie... let alone believe in lies self-generated...
from the hiding place
of the obscure... when...
people behaved like people...
had their lives and had their...
           soul crushing competitive streaks...
it was paradise to scribble...

now is no time to come to the fore...
could i encompass staging
a transcendence...
or merely this: a scuttling into the shadow...
not out of fear...
but for the sheer desire to spectate...
i mean: this requires an audience
this... this world this... whatever "this"
actually is...

the neighbour put up a new fence...
i've had over half a year of work
in perfecting the garden...
       there was putting up the pergola
with a wisteria
weaving: now blooming with tender
bishop hues...
    i'm still working on digging
an arcane concept of a trench
and flooding it self-made:
3 parts sand 1 part cement...
so the weeds from my neighbour's
garden do not sprout from beneath
the ornamental bark i laid...

if i were some evil genius:
tinged with a psychology of a soviet
past... or a mandarin current -
i wouldn't wish this militarised democracy
upon anyone...
          
           the original fear:
the oppenheimer crucible is beside
the ******* point...
                    when there was an awe inspiring
fear... a citation from the upanishads:
now i have become death...
who is to be cited in the current
climate of events...
are we experiencing a blitzkrieg
of anger from the elements...

           could it be possible that even
the gods are stricken with
a wake of the titans -
and their first riddled tier 0:
elemental forebears...

              coming to the cauldron...
if i were an evil genius:
i would want to work in the confines
of staging coups with atom bombs...
a period of paranoia and a history
that could make... 50 years a breezy
postcard nonchalance...
i'd pride myself on a parody of
a marathon... by turning up...
with 10 years of experience as a...
postman...

                   this whirling and sedating
prospect of tamed angers and
angered hopes... and docile happiness:
in the plural -nesses
       having exacted a limbo score
of stones stashed in socks...
and then flickering... like an imitation
slingshot...

     the classical period of hebrews writing
a history that would later become
incorporated into the labyrinth of the gentiles...
that London once aspired to
be a reinvention of Jerusalem...
in the 19th century's zenith...

                         that Paris transcended this
ambition...
                      what a mystery...
this new club of intellectuals...
when one tunes in to at least
a bare minimum of 2 hours in the morning
of BBC radio 3...
by comparison i tune into classic.fm
and... the same old... the same mundane...
repetition jargon...
carl orff's o fortuna...

there's no joke: it's just a platitude of
bad taste... it's bad because it's
pop repetitive... pop repetitive:
which is saying much... about classical music
being staged to a palette...

people are supposed to possess limbs...
apparently...
but i doubt that...
one can dislike the piquancy of blue cheese...
or beef honeycomb tripe...
esp. if one has...
tiramisu for dessert...
              
      i listen in on the BBC radio 3 broadcast
and i tease myself with words like...
the seclusive parody... no...
the non-inclusive... i.q. like a pH test...
one is either "intellectually" acidic or
alkaline...

old darwin can't exactly rewrite this
fork... in the lineages of history making...
what is out-dated about the english
is clinging to darwin...
by now this should be
a well reserved fact...
and loiter in the subconscious...
it should not have the capacity
to have the propensity of words...
to still have to be expressed as
a reiteration...
                    the automation
of the heart...
                                   i am beyond
the caricature of this amnesty of
"grief"...
               beyond: with a sense temporal...
only...
              
       it's not like the copernican
heliocentric model was...
but it was... something for a wittgeinstein...
it's not like he was some
william burroughs who negated
the copernican interlude...
searching for ghosts and proofs
saying: the ancient egyptians knew
of the heliocentric model all along!

one person is somehow compounded
to lie...
whether it is true... or false...
it's beside the posit and the will for
the focus of narrative...
the will to power is...
an -esque variation of...
the submerging focus for the masses...
a will to power concerns the elite...

but what concerns all of us?
the narrative of subversion...
               it's not so much a hierarchy of
glistening parodies of giggling...
at the exchange...

the will to power can be compensated...
the ordeal of a narrative...
right now! it's not necessarily true
or false...
     you can strobe light as many scientific
facts... uncertainties...
quack doctors will still sprout!

there was once a will to power...
a progress fabric / template for exceptional
men... the en masse is only now:
the last reigning exception...
what was once )will( is now )narration(...
what was once )power(... is now...
                   a "leisure" of a lie...

                  such the current world has
become so: new and in being so new:
so new-demanding...
                the old quest of a predicament
of the individual... some beckett-esque
oasis is but a half-heaved
borrowing of ancient greek monstrosity
of myth: this now new
pathology...

                   history - mythology -
journalism - temporal relativism -
all kept... within... the confines... of...
a spatial "integrity":
but i very much like... the lost butterfly
wings of "         " (odd)...

when: oh god... and if there wasn't
this propaganda machine...
but only now... you can see it speeding
up... and it's like... trailblazing
and you're wishing for some repose
with a tumbleweed
and how there could be
a cancan moment in h'americana...
when the old soviets would be
at it...

         but shyla stylez is still 35...
and dying of "reprieve"...
but i'm still gorging on beef honeycomb
tribe... and eating an italian classic
minutes later...

            because i might eat...
the livers of oinks...
the stomachs of chickens...
and the hearts...
i am barbaric...
                but i like...
the nova scotia compass...
or where it's "heading"...
i have a dutch lisp tantrum that's
beside a kiss of a tarantula...
that these people gravitated
toward a flattening of concerns...
this bicycle had to replace
towing a tonne of beef:
and milking it...

           hindering the limbo for
the worth of caviar, oysters...
and... scrutiny limbo tall...
a caribbean **** muster-pace...
because mustard is a european
masterpiece... along with
the "jelly" of the horse:
subjected to the readied dish of:
                      radical-conservatism...

calls "us" radishes on the
harsh... told to talk tall bone
with grit of bone...
     i hide my rhymes
with a... most secure... are we'iz'e'kid?
hoods to clamour for a:
"safen und testez"?

the bull-whipped testimony
of the tried and tested..
pair of guggenheim's "dropped off"....
my ordeal at the opera!
stiletto baron... a piercing sort
of "shoe"...
         the elephant's trunk is
a bad metaphor for a jazz fuelled trumpet...
concerning the otherwise
3 blind mend teasing the braille
of carpenter's 1 hour posit for:
no instagram, no fan-boyoh...
this variation of choking joke of junk...

the "rhyme" come first..
a prefix junction...
because executing memory with
suffixes... is... like... "no"... and "new"...
once upon a time some alexnder
the great...
count my concerns...
the balkans are the size of texas..
the ottoman turks were and are...
merely the pronounced presence
of barbery... on the demand
of the english... plumbers...

well... everything in english...
is steroid riddled: shakespearean or not...
macbeth or death...
it's not even dickensian...
it's: school the children or: death's
parrot and the *** riddled quack...
it's that the pillar is... heavier than its
shadow...
the... zunge ein walgrundieren...
              neckerei...
                          ein augenbinde hängend...

not that this is some Latvian
excavation project:
who! is to spreschen richtig....
german-philia or a russo-phobia...
bible blessed nuance
of... ol' david & delylah....
samson & goliath...

      my own pretty azure ice cradle topic...

a lobotomy of wooling
the cushion of an aversion
towards the heave! a grand heave!
prototype of nuance normie...
which is like gradation the arab project...
and he-he! softy-pie y first catering
for cancer last: croatian lobotomy *******
cue:

lumbering at a grief of a sedation..
to chop a tree...
to heave a concept of table
or a toothpick from it...
to give birth for a cherry fruit...
to delight a hindering of
             i aim...
                     the teeth and
the prosthetic... looking pristine...
prime gum:  excavating "leisure"...
it's that....

jaw-abiding:
sharon stone contra...
michelle pfeiffer...
        kim cattrall: godzilla ***
casablanca?!
    shyla stylez izzzzzzzzzzz
zoom?!
       jaw-gnashing teeth counting...
my leisure
of experimenting with
grace...
            my own: men-yoroi...
             licking a lisp...

this 3 bottles of jack a toll...
                       of this summa summarum;
these "croatian" shadow-people...
the lesser kind...
of the less celebrated...
after all: from california toward
the axis of elven-evil via texas...
the pristine people:
beside the primo escape plan
aiming at the moon!
what is the ol' muscovite affair...
that now... tinged with a beijing hindering...      

the soviets would bring a bomb...
the billionth man came
with a cinema of a ******* sneeze!

— The End —