by TyrantTR » Fri Mar 02, 2007 6:07 am
Once upon a time I had two Guinea Pigs. One was Ringo, the other was Barbra. (Guess the connection, get an E-cookie.) They were my bestest best freinds. Then one day, Ringo stopped eating his salads, and I never heard him drink water. He turned from a fat little pig, to a skinney little guy. I didn't know what was wrong, but no matter what I did he wouldn't eat. Then one day, I opened up his pink igloo to peek at him, and there he was. On the floor in the litter, he just wiggled his little legs as he looked forth. It was the saddest thing that ever happened to me. But you know what? That and many other emotional ocurences in my life is what makes me a good writer. With the push of current events I can conjure alot of feelings into my audience. Thus proveing what I think, with everything bad, there comes something good. KP, I'm sure that your iguanna dieing gave you something good, no?