(Cool. I get to post in different fonts and colors now.)
Once upon a time there was a girl. She used to live in Oklahoma. But she moved to Kansas. There she began a story. She wrote it one chapter at a time. And never, ever finished it. And it made her friend cry. Because her friend loved it. But it was never completed. Because the girl enjoyed making her friend cry. And an Irishman read it as well. And he loved it. But he never said he did because he was just like that. Instead he said he hated it. But he really loved it. Because he always loved a good Blog story. And Ireland was a better place after that. But Kansas wasn't. And neither was Oklahoma.
The End.
5 comments:
..... What???? Tracy! Why don't you write a REAL story?! tsk tsk. Besides, you got part of it wrong.... At least I think you did. Hold on while I check.
I have confirmed it, and I was right. Mr. John Irishman did NOT read my story. So, if nothing else, there was THAT at fault with your little tale.
Hmmm... I really think that John SHOULD get to reading my story one of these days though. I mean, I like it.
I don’t know how to react to this story.
It’s cryptic and clever.
Uhm…Yes, I hate it.
How do you know I didn’t read your story Imy?
Is it that you think that I would be unable to restrain myself from commenting if I had read it?
If I didn’t read your story, it’s probably because a big block of text is somewhat off putting. But if I didn’t, I will. Soon.
Hi Tracy!
This is Kelly (Boutross). I occasionally read your blogs, but am rarely treated to new posts! ;) I've been praying for your dad and family after his recent illness. Hope he's doing much better - Keep Posting!
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