Thursday, May 12, 2011

The Journal

My brother's a neat guy. When we were in grade school , my mother gave us journals as a birthday gift. I guess she wanted us to collect our thoughts and journal them. I think I drew in mine. My brother started writing fictitious entries. It was about his walk to school. He found a dead cat and tasted the meat and liked it. He then returned the following day to collect it in a sack, so he could bring it home and feed on it there. Brief entries discussing each meal. It was hilarious, and really quite awesome for that age.

After he wrote an entry and shared it with me, he would hide the journal behind some books on the top of a big bookshelf in our room. One morning during breakfast, my mother comes in ranting, "SICK. IT'S SICK!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???!"

It's a creepy thought picturing your sneaky mother slithering around your bedroom trying to find the journals she gave you for your birthday. I just wish I had drawn mutilated bodies resembling my entire family in mine.


Image by volen76.


And sadly, the journal entries stopped after that.

10 comments:

Rot said...

One of these days, I'd love to listen to an award acceptance speech where the recipient says:

"I'd like to mention my parents, who had absolutely NOTHING to do with this award..."

crudedoodle.com said...

Hahahha. I've often said that my mother belongs in Federal prison for how many times she "accidentally" opened my mail back when i lived at home.

NoahFentz said...

Very funny....I can imagine there were probably alot of "Cat got your tongue" jokes...

Julie Ferguson said...

Sounds like your brother had a talent for horror writing.

Rot said...

Promptly sqwashed.

JD said...

I feel an overwhelming urge to high five your brother right now...

Anonymous said...

Great story. I bet you and your brother were a handful.


(What's up with the stupid blogger network....)

Samhainn said...

Love it.

NoahFentz said...

happy friday the 13th

Rot said...

Same to you, man : )