ThingsTo Know About The Texas And Other Large Intestines

hey home dogs.

post number 70.

made by Swanky Toodles & Chishcome Bing

enjoy.

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Our favorite game. type in random letters with spaces and then see what the spellchecker comes up with!

Example

jefujr gur gjrng gujrn jrgbv rjv ruv brg

Could turn into...

Jeffrey gut grungy grin caregiver riv rub Borg

yay for spellchecking.

Now, some cool pictures.

secrets,

WHAT IT IS:
PostSecret is an ongoing project, created by Frank Warren, in which people mail their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard. Select secrets are then posted on the PostSecret website, or used for PostSecret's books or museum exhibits. It started on January First, 2005.

Creator of PostSecret

PostSecret is an ongoing project, created by Frank Warren, in which people mail their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard. Select secrets are then posted on the PostSecret website, or used for PostSecret's books or museum exhibits. It started on January First, 2005.

If asked, anyone who is in either of Mr. Bergquist's block classes could tell you what their next big project is: making our own Indie film. The students have to write a screenplay using the industry formatting standards, and eventually produce it into a real live short film.  Bergquist has come up with a list of different kinds of shots to use in the movie, such as a long shot, a wide shot, and an extreme close up shot. The movie has to be at least 5 minutes long. Students will work in small groups, and choose the best screenplay to produce. Films will be shot outside of school hours, and edited on the Annex computers. All of the movies the class makes will be entered into the Raindance Short Film Contest once they are complete. 

a lizard named martin.

ONCE upon a time, in a land far, far, away there lived a young boy named Martin. Martin lived high up in a Sicamore tree with his mother, Julia, and his sister, Charity. They were a very happy little bunch. Martin was a green and brown lizard. Charity was a flying fish, and Julia was a food processor. One day, Martin decided to go to Costco to pick up some artichokes for his neighbor. He walked in through the big metal doors and flashed his Costco member card at the man at the door. He walked briskly through the aisles until he reached the produce He was walking through the dog food section when a big hairy tortilla chip jumped out at him, and pulled a burlap sack over Martins head.
"You're comin' with me." The tortilla chip said, lifting Martin over his shoulder. Martin noticed that the small amount of air inside the bag smelled funny, and soon he was passed out.
When he awoke, Martin was in a dark, plain room with a single window. He was sitting against a cement wall, his little butt on a cement floor. He felt scared. He started screaming 'HELP' at the top of his lungs. No one responded. Luckily, Martin was fluent in several different languages. He proceeded to screech for help in Portuguese, Cvecklaslavatian, Spanish, Hindu, Asianese, Sign Language, and Hawaiian. No one came. Suddenly, though, the door to the room burst open. The tortilla chip came in, and grabbed Martin by the ear.
"Listen, bud. You're gonna do what I say, when I say it. Don't ask questions."
"Okay." Martin whimpered. The tortilla chip led Martin out of the room, and soon the two of them were in a crowded pub, standing behind the bar.
"Your job is to shell peanuts." the tortilla chip explained "We are too cheap to buy peanuts, so we grow them out back. You take the shells off, and fill these bowls with them," he gestured to a tall stack of blue paper cups.
"Got it." Martin said confidently. He began taking the shells off peanuts. After about 36 hours Martins hands were getting very sore. He had not been allowed to take a break, and was standing in a puddle of his own pee. This was when Martin decided that we was going to try to escape this hell. He made the dash towards the door but a giant foot came down on his head. His brains squirted out his ears and he died.

The End.

♡♪♫☆
Alpacas are members of the camelid family, which includes alpacas, Dromedary and Bactrian camels, llamas, vicunas, and guanacos. Alpaca are indigenous to the Andes Mountains of South America, primarily in Peru, Chile and Bolivia. There they developed into hardy animals with thick fleece to withstand the cold, living on sparse vegetation. Alpacas are smaller than llamas, and are therefore not used as pack animals like llamas. Alpacas are bred primarily for their soft luxurious fleece, which is very similar to cashmere. In 1984 some specially selected alpacas were brought into the United States and Canada. The importation of alpacas was stopped in 1998. The alpacas that are here are the only breeding stock to improve the bloodlines. This makes breeding them a good investment opportunity. There are currently about 50,000 alpacas in the U.S. There are two types of alpacas, the suri (su-ree) and the huacaya (wah-kai-yuh). The suri accounts for only about 5% of alpacas in the US. It has fiber that grows quite long and forms what look like dreadlocks. The huacaya, which is by far the greater number of alpacas, has a shorter and more dense fleece. This fleece has a crimp, or waviness, similar to sheep's wool, but there is no lanolin, or greasiness as found in sheep's wool. The Hunter Hill Alpacas are huacaya. There are twenty-two natural colors of alpaca fleece. These colors can be blended into more colors, and alpaca fleece can also be dyed to practically any color. The fleece can also be blended with other fibers, such as wool or silk. Alpacas are shorn for their fleece each year, which will produce 5 to 10 pounds of soft, warm fiber per animal. In colder climates some breeders may shear their alpacas every two years to produce a longer fiber, but one year is normal. Hand spinners and the commercial fiber industry eagerly seek the fleece. Alpacas chew their cud similar to a cow, although they have three stomachs rather than four stomachs like a cow. Alpacas graze, eating grasses and hay. They are usually also fed a special mineral supplement in grain, especially for pregnant females over the winter period when snow and lack of vegetation prevents grazing. Alpacas do not have hooves, but soft padded feet with two toes and toenails, which have to be trimmed since they are not worn down by the rugged, rocky mountains. They have no top teeth in the front; when they chew they grind their food sideways, like a camel. The average height of an alpaca is 36" at the withers, and they weigh up to about 150 to 180 lbs. Males of breeding age (about three years old) are kept in adjacent, but separate pastures from the females. Breeding is selective, chosen based on bloodlines. A female may be shipped across the country for breeding with the selected male. When so shipped, she will be accompanied by at least one other alpaca since they do not live well alone. Alpacas are herd animals and do not like to be alone. There must always be at least two, or stress may set in, the animal will not eat, and could die. Alpacas have only one baby, called a cria, at a time - twins are extremely rare. Pregnancy lasts for about 11-1/2 months, and they breed at any time of the year. When giving birth, alpacas do not usually require any assistance, and have their young while standing. Another interesting fact is that alpacas give birth normally between 10:00 am and 2:00 pm. A cria usually weighs approximately 15 to 20 pounds, and begins nursing within 30 minutes of birth. They are weaned at about six months. The mother is usually mated again in about two weeks.
Alpacas are disease resistant and low maintenance. They are friendly and not at all dangerous; they do not bite, but may kick with their hind legs if surprised or frightened from behind, (but their feet are soft) and sometimes they may spit. Alpacas have a life span of 15 to 20 years, although that is based on life expectancy from South America - they have not lived here long enough to know what effect new living conditions, food and climate will have.




I strongly believe that alpacas are underrated. When I grow up I am changing my name to Al and starting my very own alpaca farm. I will make my house out of bones from my alpacas that have passed away. I will weave my clothing out of alpaca wool. I will sleep, eat, and play with my alpacas. I LOVE alpacas.

"Owie," Norah gasped as I kicked her in the toes. "You've hurt me so much these days." Does that sentence have a hidden meaning? I wondered.
"Norah, is there something you want to tell me?" I asked, wrapping my arm around her warm shoulders.
"Uh..no." She said, poking herself in the eye. "See I do this sometimes because my eyeballs squeak." as if that was a good explanation for her strange behavior. I arched an eyebrow.
"How do you do that?" She asked, proceeding to move her eyes and jaw around spasmatically. I pondered momentarily if it would be wise of me to go fetch a tranquilizer from the clinic for her. I turned the music up, and looked over at Norah. She was now licking her teeth, her mouth gaping open like a black abyss. She pointed out that it was amost 11:11, then proceeded to try and show me two students who she is sure have a 'Thing'.
I hummed along with the song as Norah squirmed next to me.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.
"I think I should be one of those people that they like strap to a wheelchair so that I can't move, except then I wouldn't know what to do with my hands so I'd like eat my arm or something.." I tuned out as she continued to describe how she would throw her mom in the water and then move on with me. I danced a bit in my seat to the music and ignored her questions on how hearing aids worked.
"Were you really listening to that story?" She asked.
"Nope. " I said, still dancing and typing vigorously. Norah busied herself by flipping through a journal she had found on the desk. She eventually put the journal down and tapped the desk. Then a miracle happened: Norah was still. The moment was fleeting, though, and she soon picked the journal up again, and looked at me. Her wide brown eyes gleamed with mischief.
What is she up to now? I wondered.
"I want to lick this journal." She proclaimed.
"I'm pretty sure thats not a good idea." I said. I went back to what I was doing on the computer. Suddenly I felt Norah twitching and writhing in her chair. She reached across my body, pointing at the clock. I glanced over at the glowing red numbers, which had arranged themselves to say 11:11. I wished, as I always did at this time. As the clock flipped over to 11:12, Norah launched into a monolouge about the two students that she had said had a 'thing'.
"He's going to beat her." She exclainmed. "See, she cant defend herself."
"I see." I said. Suddenly Mr. Snelling was standing in front of the computer
"What are you writing about?" he demanded. Norah and I began cowering in fear.
"Norah." I squeaked.
"Are you writing about how great she is?" he asked, glaring down on me.
"Actually I'm writing about what spaz she is." I said.
"Oh." Snelling said. He bent over and began scrutinizing my article, pointing out every run-on sentence and incorrect punctionation point.
"I'm writing this all as it happens, so its difficult to keep up." I justified.
"Shut it. Count to twenty to yourself." Snelling snapped. I began counting, and Norah crossed her legs on her chair and began to meditate.
Snelling muttered some uncomrehendable words and walked away. Suddenly I had a splittng headache. I looked at the clock. 11:25. Five more minutes of this. If there is one thing I have learned in my friendship with Norah, it is that she handles herself a lot better when not confined to a desk. She then stood up, patting my head.
"I'm going to get some paper from the printer." she said.
"Okay." I said.
"I'll see you in an hour." she exclaimed. She came back in about thirty seconds later, sighing.
"I couldn't find any paper." She said. She began describing her pe class. I soon noticced that everyone was leaving the room.
"We have one minute." Norah pointed out. I nodded. By now she was talking about a teen pregnancy documentary she had seen last night. I glanced desperatley at the clock. Suddenly it changed to 11:30, tiggering the ringing of the bell. Never before had I been so happy to hear that bell. I saved what I had been working on and got up, happily leaving another day in publications.

Dear Roxanne, count me in.

Relationship gone bad? Knife left in your back by a friend? Nervous about an upcoming event? Parent problems? Afraid cheese will give you nightmares? Well you're in luck. My name is Roxanne, and I'm here to help. I am the worlds number-one source of infinite advice. I may be young, but you could pretty much say that I've seen it all. Now LMS students finally have an outlet for their frustrations, a completely confidential figure to listen and respond to your problems. Send an anonymous, or even named question or problem in a comment, or send an email to dearroxanecountmein@yahoo.com. If you dont, check back soon at www.blogspot.com/dearroxanne for your answer, or click here