xxxooo, the blogging genius that he is, strikes again and inspires me to write yet another thought provoking piece!  He told a story using the search terms that led to his blog.  Here are the search terms that led to my blog and my fictional/or biographical story…you decide.  I’ve decided to try to write the story keeping the search terms in order and if it sucks yea well the search terms were freaking weird! The search terms are pink!

“Every time i hear your name my eyes sparkle”  said some blonde bombshell.  I could hear the tv in the other room (yea she sounded like a blonde bombshell) blaring the latest soap opera as I tried to study.  I mumbled to myself, “Everytime I hear your namerainbows start to bleed”.  The search for good  roommates was getting harder and harder and currently I found myself with a few free spirits. 

One roommate is newly divorced and her best friend insisted it was because one night she caught the husband getting dressed in wife’s clothes for sex.  Of course that is just gossip.  If you ask me she knew what she was getting into because he owned Watheed Pornographic.  Of course the name is made up to protect their identities.

Then their is my other roommate always dancing in chaotic cycles around the house.  He is constantly reprimanding us for playing jokes on him like rearranging his room when he is out.  Each time he blurts out, “Just because I am blind does not mean I won’t figure out who did this!”  I actually really admire him because he is an electrician.

Then their is the “mother” of the house, she is constantly either laughing or screaming. She is the one addicted to soap opera’s.  She is the house boo-boo fixer.  She also started a debate on the sexual meaning of it’s grey weather here. Some of us thought it had to do with 50 Shades of Grey while the other half felt it described sex that was not so black and white.  That led to some very interesting conversations that I don’t dare put to pen.

The last roommate is all kinds of silly.  He loves to slaughter the Australian accent, “It’s all about me animals, matey!” And instead of calling things by their name he makes up words like instead of doing the crossword in the morning he does the jig words.

If I had known I was walking into this situation I might have thought twice.  The people are fine if you ignore that”mom” is an emotional thief, and the sexual tension in the air between newly divorced and the electrician.

Sometimes I sit trying to sleep while they are all conversating in the living room and I imagine they are monsters with static like screams.  I like horror stories so I imagine them to lull me to sleep.I guess I am pretty strange myself.   Sometimes I like to borrow things and end up not returning them.  I tend to dwell on the question, am I a thief? I grew up with a religious background so I neurotically over analyze my intentions.

I am in school to become a fashion designer and am currently trying to concentrate on my paper, nighty girls in the nighty world. I only trust people who know fashion to read my papers and critique me. One time I had to pee so badly I let my friend hold my paper.  The combustible laughter told me he didn’t understand the fashion genius of saran wrap diapers.  THE END  lol


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