Baman Piderman---Make Da Band

lol, this is the funniest video ever

Jesus is my Friend

You have to see this video

English Madness

Let's face it -- English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or french fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? One goose, two geese. So one moose, two meese?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't the preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?
Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are absent? Have you ever seen a horseful carriage (as compared to a horseless one) or a strapful gown (as opposed to a strapless)? Met a sung hero ("unsung") or experienced requited ("unrequited") love? Have you ever run into someone who was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm clock goes off by going on, and to maintain good posture while sitting you must sit up and sit down at the same time.
English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn't a race at all).
That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it.

Hired or Fired? part 2!!!!!

Here is Hired or Fired part two!


After Gilbert landed on the ground, he was immediately taken to intensive care unit, because after being shot from the cannon he ended up with a broken leg, a broken arm, and several broken ribs. While he was in bed, Mr. Phillips came up to him and said, “Gilbert, YOU’RE FIRED! You’re a ridiculous old clown who can’t do anything right! Goodbye!” Then he walked away. After Gilbert got a bunch of casts and crutches, he ran away from the hospital.
As he hobbled through a park, Gilbert spotted a bunch of men dressed like octopuses surrounding a poor old woman. As Gilbert neared them, he could hear the old woman calling the men (who were doing a retarded dance) shenanigans and hoodlums.
Gilbert limped closer, and shouted, “Who are you guys?” although he already know. “The YGG, Youth Gangster Group,” the one closest to him replied. “I know you, Sam,” said Gilbert. “But what’s with the octopus costumes? Don’t you usually dress in, you know, hoodies, baggy jeans, and backward caps?”
“Well,” replied one of the members of the YGG, “Today is April Fool’s Day, and we wanted to try something new and different.” “Hey, Gilbert!” Gilbert recognized the voice as Arnold’s. “I hear Mr. Phillips, your former boss at the circus, decided to hire you again.” “Great news. Thanks tons, you guys!” With that, Gilbert hobbled away.
The group of guys burst into laughter. “I didn’t think he’s actually all for that,” snickered Arnold. “It’s an old joke.” Meanwhile, at the circus, Gilbert limped his way up to Mr. Phillips. “What is it now, you ridiculous old cannonball?” asked Mr. Phillips, annoyed. “Didn’t you hire me again?” “NO!” shouted Mr. Phillips. “FIRED!”
Afraid he was going to go deaf, Gilbert hobbled away as fast as he could. Suddenly he remembered that Arnold had played that trick on him before. “That old galloper,” Gilbert muttered, narrowing his eyes. Suddenly an idea came to Gilbert’s head. “Arnold deserves to die. Justice must be served.” Gilbert grinned as he took a bottle of arsenic powder from his pocket.
The next day, Gilbert brought Arnold a plate of spaghetti with the arsenic inside. Gilbert watched with a smirk as Arnold ate with relish. “Mmmm,” said Arnold to the astonished Gilbert, who was shocked beyond measure to see that Arnold had not yet died. “What did you put in the spaghetti? It’s delicious!” Puzzled, Gilbert looked down at the bottle in his hand, and rolled his eyes when he saw that he had misplaced his bottle of arsenic powder for one of Parmesan cheese.
“Argggh!” Gilbert growled, and stomped off in frustration. That night, Gilbert decided to have a plate of spaghetti. “And, of course, Parmesan cheese,” said Gilbert with a grin. With that, he took the bottle of arsenic powder and, thinking it was Parmesan cheese, sprinkled it al over his spaghetti. The next morning, Arnold and a bunch of YGG members went to Gilbert’s house to express their thankfulness for the gift of spaghetti from Gilbert to Arnold, and found him dead with his face in his plate of spaghetti. And so they spanked him for being a glutton*.

The End

*Glutton: a person who greedily eats too much

Dormitory Confusion

Agnes sauntered up the stairs, suitcase in hand. It was the first day of school, and Agnes’ parents had sent her to boarding school. She had spent about an hour in front of the mirror, checking to make sure she looked good for the hundredth time.
She was pretty good looking. Her curly black tresses complimented her highlighted eyes. She wore a burgundy sweater, blue jeans with embroidery on the front bottom right leg, and black high heels. Her earrings were little hearts, the same color as her sweater.
She slowly pulled out a small mirror from her purse, and combed back her luscious black locks of hair. She smeared pink lipstick on her lips, and then she smiled to herself. She was all set.
After signing up, she was assigned to Dormitory 6. However, she held the card upside-down, so it looked like 9. She approached Dormitory 9 and opened the door. To her surprise, she saw a room full of 10-12 year old girls, but she was 15. “Can I help you, miss?” came a feminine voice. Startled, Agnes turned to see a tall, slender woman with glasses and dark hair pulled back in a bun. She wore a grey skirt and tuxedo shirt.
Agnes swallowed hard. “My card here says Dormitory 9,” she said. “Lord! Good heavens, no!” the woman exclaimed, throwing her hands up in disgust. “Dormitory 6, can’t you read?” Agnes felt sharply intimidated. “Now hurry along to your respectful dormitory, you hear?” the woman glowered.
Agnes nodded, blinking hard to keep herself from crying. As she turned to go, she heard a, “Don’t you go nosing in other people’s dorms!” The remark was followed by a slam.
Agnes burst into tears, but she quickly wiped them away. She turned to run in the other direction, when suddenly she bumped into the principal. “I’ve received reports that you’ve been going into other people’s dormitories. Is this true?” he questioned, his tall frame towering above Agnes’ head.
“It was an accident,” she replied, her eyes flickering defensively. Her remark was met with a long, cold stare. She felt like crying and running away, but she knew she couldn’t. “Our principle is to MIND OUR OWN BUSINESS!” he bellowed.
Suddenly the principal shouted,” Very well then! Go! Be gone! Off with you!” Agnes ran quickly away to her dormitory. To her delight, her friend Jules was staying there too. “What took you so long?” Jules asked. “Oh, it’s a bit of a ‘scary’ adventure!” Agnes chuckled. “Something to do with a scary principal-and principle.”

The Strange Case of Mr. Damnation and the Missing Blue Ring

Sorry I haven't posted lately......we had our feast & we weren't allowed on the internet. Anyways, here's another story. I wrote it when I just turned 11, I think. (I made up the bad guy's name when I was 10 or something.....) haha. So anyways here it is:D: (P.S. Nikki, this is just for you!)

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The door slowly creaked open, and a dark figure stealthily crept into the tall tower. It moved silently but swiftly from room to room, until it came upon a large oval door. Quick as a flash, the shadows covered the dark figure as it crept ominously towards a brass pedestal. It brushed it's hand past the dark pedestal, and was out the door. The gate creaked open soon after, as the dark figure's cape flowed past it as it ran silently through the dark streets.

Dr. Jiggle woke up with a start. He had had a frightening dream-frightening to him at least. In his dream his precious blue diamond ring had been-stolen. He put on his robe and dashed through a large oval door. His precious ring was-gone. His dream was true! Dr. Jigle panicked. He was determined to find the thief-whoever it might be.

Mr. Damnation proudly fingered the shining blue diamond ring he wore on his finger. His full name was Hesse Damnation-by the last name you could tell he was French. He smiled wickedly as he thought of how he had gotten it. Dr. Jiggle had long before put him in jail for stealing his friend's watch, as well as some other minor crimes, so he was determined to pay him back.

Dr. Jiggle had by now gotten up again (it was 6:45 in the morning). He took out his notebook and magnifying glass, and set out to find the mysterious culprit.

Hesse also realized that Dr. Jiggle would be searching for his ring, so he decided to hide it. He pulled up some loose floor boards to reveal a small open space under the floor. He wrapped the ring in a layer of indigo cloth, before slipping it inside the cubbyhole. Hesse replaced the floorboards, then walked back to his chair to write some coverlets.

Dr. Jiggle walked through the dawn streets, looking for telltale signs to give him a clue as to the culprit. Suddenly he remembered something: Hesse Damnation! He had stolen things before on several occasions. "Of course!" said Dr. Jiggle gleefully, clapping his hands, like a little boy about to receive a present.

Loud, sharp raps on the door downstairs startled Hesse Damnation. As he peered out the thickly tinted windows, he was shocked beyond measure to see Dr. Jiggle standing at his door! Did he find out? But how? thought Hesse Damnation, frightened. He decided not to open the door. But Dr. Jiggle rapped sharply on the door, so Hesse Damnation reluctantly succumbed. He quickly lifted up the floorboards, lifted up the ring and kissed it, then put it back in place. Hesse Damnation reluctantly went to face the door.

"Hello," mumbled Hesse Damnation. "Give me my ring," demanded Dr. Jiggle. Hesse Damnation flushed, before barking,"I did not steal your ring!" Dr. Jiggle stared into Damnation's steely eyes, and demanded again,"Give me my ring!"

Damnatio, after many no's, finally let Dr. Jiggle in, with much resistance. Dr. Jiggle inspected every room in the house, to no avail. But as he walked through the room where the ring was hidden, he noticed some of the floorboards were rather loose. Suddenly he turned and gazed coldly into Hesse Damnation's eyes. "How dare you lie to me!" he thundered. He planted on his knees and lifted the old floorboards to reveal, half covered by some velvety indigo cloth, was his beloved blue ring!

Hesse Damnation was brought to court, and proved guilty. He was to be thrown into jail for 20 years. As he was ordered into the police car, hands cuffed, Hesse Damnation angrily thought about how he was to be in jail once again-bcause of Dr. Jiggle.

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Hired or Fired?

In the past year or 2, I've written more than 40 books (but they're only 8 or 12 pages long). This one is one of the funnier ones. It's not very long, because when I write in books I usually write big. It's called "Hired or Fired?"

“Oh man!” Gilbert groaned, kicking the dirt in front of him. His boss, Mr. Lance, had expelled him because he was caught slacking on the job. “I was just taking a rest,” he muttered. “Oh well, what’s done is done,” he sighed. “But I sure wish I hadn’t been ‘taking a rest’.”
You see, Gilbert was a part of the Youth Gangster Group (YGG), which often started riots, and pestered people in public places. His parents had disowned him because of it, and when Mr. Lance found out, that was another factor added to the list of reasons why he was fired.
“This %*! @& Group means nothing but trouble! First my parents disowned me, so that I have no home & have to live on the road!!! Then I have no job, which renders me penniless!” With that he swore some more.
“Hey, Gilbert!” came a voice behind him. “What were you swearing about?” Gilbert turned around to seed his friend Arnold, who was also in the Group. “Oh-um….I…nothing!” he smiled. Then Arnold’s countenance turned serious. “What were you saying about the Group?”
Gilbert gulped. Arnold was nearly twice his size, and also the leader of the Group. Then he said, “I said this group causes nothing but trouble!” “Why you stuck up for….” said Arnold indignantly, his face turning red. “Very well, then. If it causes you so much trouble, you’re no longer a part of it! With that, the big man sauntered away.
Gilbert heaved a sigh-partly of relief. Suddenly Arnold’s friend walked up to the big man. He reported Gilbert’s firing from his job, and suddenly Arnold had an idea. He ran back to where Gilbert stood. “Hey, my man,” said Arnold, in mock friendliness. “I just heard that your boss decided to hire you again.”
Gilbert could hardly believe his ears! That’s great!” he exclaimed, “I’ll go report for work right away!” With that, he ran off. When he was out of earshot, the two big guys began to snicker.
Meanawhile, Gilbert had arrived at Mr. Lance’s office. “What you doin’ here?” questioned Mr. Lance gruffly. “Uh,” said Gilbert nervously. “Didn’t you hire me again?” “NO!” shouted Mr. Lance. “FIRED!”
By now his ears were hurting, so Gilbert ran outside beside before his former boss could deal out more of his rashness. “Hired or fired?” Gilbert muttered. Suddenly he realized that Arnold must be up to something. “Boy am I feeling like a great detective right now,” he laughed. He quickly ran to the subway where he slept, grabbed a large black cloak he used as a blanket, and fastened it on, putting the hood on his head.
Arnold lived alone in a small shack on the other side of the small town. As fast as he could, Gilbert raced across town. When he was about halfway, he heard some music from a circus. Then he noticed a big red-and-white circus tent, so he decided to go check it out.
He put his cloak under some nearby bushes, and then strode inside. “Hi!” Gilbert turned to see a man in a tuxedo. “I’m Phillip Lambert, owner of this circus. Nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you too. I’m Gilbert,” he said, grinning.
“Well, Gilbert,” smiled Phillip. “You look like a perfect clown. Would you like to try the job?” “Sure, I was just fired, and sure wouldn’t mind!” “Ok,” said Phillip. “Follow me.” He led Gilbert down a hallway, behind the tall seats where the audience sat during the performances.
They soon arrived at a swing-open door. Phillip pushed it open, and they walked through. “Hello, Phillip,” said a tall man, with a suit similar to Mr. Lambert’s. Phillip explained, and Gilbert was quickly ushered off to be fitted with his clown costume.
Ten minutes later, Gilbert was fully dressed in a colorful clown costume. Suddenly Phillip walked up. “Gilbert,” he said. “You’re to be fired.” “Already?” he gasped. He sighed.
“Follow me,” said Phillip, and Gilbert got up. He was led to the platform. After being introduced, he was led into a giant cannon. On the count of 3, he was shot into the air. As he sailed, he thought to himself,” Look on the bright side. At least you still have a job!”