...whack myself in the head with a mallet.
See but that never works cuz I pull it at the last minute and so I don't hit myself hard enough.
Anyway, I"m up for the third time tonight. I guess technically it's morning, cuz it's 3:30 a.m.
I tried to sleep at 10:30 pm, around 11:30 pm (I think?) and again at 1:30 am or so.
Didn't take.
It occurs that maybe I should try to sleep on the hour, instead of on the half.
Yes, I'm just sure that's the problem.
Anyway, I was laying in bed (can't remember which time but it wasn't this time), and I started telling myself this semi-bizarre story.
It reminded me of Euni's fairy tale, so I got up and wrote it down--what there is of it--and if anyone has any ideas of where it should go, jump right in.
Fair warning: it's pretty stupid.
That being said, like ta heah it heah it go:
Froggles, by Jules
This one time? At band camp?
Erm, I mean: Once upon a time there lived a beeYOOOOOtiful frog, on the outskirts of an enchanted kingdom.
He desperately wished to get into the kingdom because rumor had it that the tadpoles in the moat had the hottest tails going.
Also, the flies were supposedly copious, huge, lazy, and succulent. He’d heard tell that a good-size frog such as himself could live a whole day on just ONE of the enchanted flies.
He was bound and determined to see for himself.
And taste, as well.
Alas, this kingdom was protected by a very powerful spell;nothing could get inside, though people, if they worked VERY hard, could get out.
No innsie-outsies, though, so hardly anyone tried to leave.
So our plucky little hero—let’s call him, I don’t know, howabout Maynard?—spent all day every day circling the enchanted kingdom,searching doggedly for the proverbial chink in the magical armor.
Up and down he hopped against the barrier of the spell, all day every day; circling, circling, stopping only to catch a fly or if he was lucky, an anorexic dragon fly. Such paltry fair only made him yearn more desperately to enter the kingdom.
Near dusk, when the sun went sideways, he would admire his own reflection in one of the many puddles surrounding the kingdom.
He truly was a handsome frog; even he could tell that.
One day (there’s always a “one day,” isn’t there?) as he was performing his searching ritual, he experienced the shock of his life.
As he jumped against a place he was sure he’d jumped before,he whooshed through the spell, and landed SPLASH in the lushest, greenest, wettest, swampiest swamp he’d ever seen.
Verdant, it was.
Suddenly ravenous, he cast his bulbous eyes in all directions, and spotted a huge, juicy-looking, bright green bottle fly.
As he took a hop in its direction…
...this is where I decided to get up and type it.
Obviously something has to happen.
Of some nature.
Yep.
K,bye.
