Part 4...sort of

I'm very, very, very (a.k.a. extremely) sorry that I've not been able to get to my blog for a while. I am so brain dead right now, though, that I'm not sure that I can write the rest of the story. I know!

Here's a chance for you to be creative!

Why don't you write the end of the story for me?! Then I'll put it on here for everyone to read and everyone can say:

"My, look at that! That Sarah is such a wonderful writer! This is stupendous compared to that other junk that she's had on here recently. Wait! This says that (your name here) wrote this! Well that makes sense! (Your name here) is such a wonderful writer with such a vast imagination! They can take an idea and run with it! Not like Sarah. She should do this more often!"

And then YOU'RE the star! Wouldn't that be great?! Just think of it as a really easy writing contest. And I'll publish everyone's ending (only I must warn you that they will be edited if not clean). I guess you could send it to me via the comment link. Then, for all of those people who don't read the comments, I'll stick it in something that they will read. And if you'd like, I'll color-code them, so that you can easily pick out yours and admire your work. If you don't want that then just tell me. START WRITING!

Part 3 - well, in a minute

Okay, I'll go on with the story in a minute, but I just wanted to encourage everyone to watch the Safety Dance video. Did you know that I can't find where to buy the song anywhere? You can get a version to sing with, but not with Men Without Hats singing it. I'm going to look again, though. Maybe I can find something. Oh yeah, I just remebered what I was going to write. I finally got my writing project for the Holocaust Museum written! Just the rough draft, and I have 49 too many words.

Okay, Part Three

The little dog dimly saw the child running toward him, but did not have the strength to lift his head to get a better view. Slowly his world went dark and he drifted into blissful sleep. When he awoke he was lying on a soft cusion next to a warm fire. Blinking, he looked around in confusion and saw the child.
"Are you waking up now, little dog?" The voice was soft and gentle. The little body relaxed a little and he leaned his head back into to cusion. "Are you hungry?" Setting a dish of steaming food next to his head, the child sat back and watched quietly. Feeling as if he were in a dream, the little dog sniffed at the little plate and began to eat. When he had finished he felt much better, but still very weak, and felt very sleepy with his full little tummy. "Just sleep little dog. Get lots of rest and you'll be good as new."

Okay, I've got to go, but I'm open for suggestions on how this story should go. Vauge ideas are swimming around in my head, but if I like your ideas then I might put them in. Of course, I could love them and forget to put them in, or I could just turn control freak on you like I do with most of my stories and take complete control and ignore most of the suggestions I recieve. But as of now I have no intention of doing so, so please give suggestion.

Updates

Okay, we'll get back to the poor little dog in a little while. Right now I just want to tell everyone that there have been some changes made which have moved all of that cool stuff that used to be at the side (over there --->) way down to the bottom

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so I strongly urge you to scroll for a while so that you can find out about me and stuff, plus, (this is the added bonus that made every thing go down) I'VE GOT THE SAFETY DANCE VIDEO ON HERE!!! Everybody cheer! Now if only I could figure out a way to get it on to my ipod...

Part 2

Once, when Leonardo da Vinci was only a little child, there was a small dog, smaller than a cat. His hair was white for the most part, spotted here and there with large black dots and a head of the same color, excepting a dark brown muzzle. He was a lonely little mutt, unloved, uncared for, the perfect picture of a forlorn animal. He lived on the capricious generosity of passersby, and his little ribs showed plainly through his fur, stained brown with the dust and filth of streets. He wandered all over the earth, following whoever gave him a kind look until he could walk no further, then stopping to rest, eating what he could find, and continuing in his meaningless, endless journey. After three years of this miserable existence, the poor dog stumbled by a home, delirious with hunger and exhaustion. Crawling weakly up on the front step, he collapsed with a pitiful whimper. A kind-hearted little boy of only five years heard his pitiful cry and ran to his aid...

Blogging while I'm cold

Hello everyone! This must have been a really busy week for everyone, because I have gotten hardly any emails, and I haven't had much time to check them. I've been having fun recently on my emails to one of my friends by making pictures out of letters. I don't think that it would work here, but I can try. There, if that looks really weird, then I'm very sorry, but it's not my fault.
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Right now I'm waiting for this video to load called "Hobbit Folk Rock". It's great, but I'm not going to put the link on here because I have NO idea what the rest of the website is like, so I'm not going to have someone investigating it, finding something terrible, and blaming Sarah. I'd love to be able to get it on my ipod, but I can't as of now. I noticed that there was an option to get other videos on stuff like your cell phone (I have no idea if ipods are included, since it was only noticed in a glance) but this one isn't. Kim showed it to me on Sunday and I want to show it to the rest of my family.
I'm cold. The place in our house that the computer is situated is colder than the refrigerator. Maybe even the freezer. Our front door opened a while ago all by itself (okay the wind did it) and it was really creepy. I thought that someone had opened it, but then I noticed that it was locked, so that was a strange discovery. Anyway, I guess I didn't shut it well enough when I took out the trash. When I'm cold I have this habit of typing reallyreallyfastsothatit'shardformetogetthewordsspelledcorrectly or I start mixing them together or something. Sorry if you can't read that, but it was just an attempt to be humorous and show how I'm typing very quickly, except when I typed that I actually went slower because I had to concentrate on not hitting the spacebar. I'm still cold. I guess if I were completely dry I wouldn't be, but since I never dry my hair (or at least, not with a towel) my hair is going to be wet for a while. Now I've got that song stuck in my head. I'm so cold. JM started a fire, but it's out. I need something interesting for my readers to read. I'll write something, you may or may not like that, but hey, if you do then great, if you don't, then I won't stop you from skipping to the bottom. Okay, a subject...dog...Leonardo DaVinci...maybe...

The Dog of a Genius

Part 1

Everyone has at least heard of Leonardo DaVinci, and most know that he was the one to paint the Mona Lisa, and who could walk down the road without hearing of "The DaVinci Code"? But there are very few who know about the Dog behind the Story. Perhaps there are a handful of us, perhaps only two, or it could be that I am the only one who knows the story. It is an ancient tale, told from generation to generation in my family. The story goes as follows...

If you want the rest you're going to have to keep reading my posts, because I have to get off now, and I want people to keep coming back. Of course with a threat like this (if you keep reading I'll keep writing) it might drive you off for good. THIS IS NOT INTENDED. Please let me know if you want me to stop, and I'll think of something else to put on here.