Category Archives: story-telling

alright, kids, gather round

why i am spiderman

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Hi peeps,

 

I would like to tell you about my undying desire to be a boy.

Ok, perhaps I should rephrase this:

I wanna be Spiderman, and walk around like a boss, and be strong and save people, and I wanna be sweaty and gross and impressive and cool – I don’t want to be Mary-Jane, a damsel in distress! I mean look at her:

I’m just saying. The similarity. It is there. (I’m actually wondering if I should vote for Kristen)

I guess my point is: Girls are nevvvver the hero! And when they are, then:

k, so there are some villains here. what’s your point?

a nice cool breeze, id say

that magic stare is just immobilizing. the city is saved!

create maximum booty stretch for optimal leverage…right?

unrestricted. very practical.

I just feel like the super-femme application form must look a lot like this:

Please answer the following questions:

Bra size:

  • c
  • d
  • e
  • select here for complementary surgical enlargement

I would like to wear the following Outfit**:

  • leotard
  • cat-suit
  • nothing
  • bikini

Would you like a personal hair-stylist? (extra charges may apply)

  • yes
  • only before I meet Batman / Superman / the sexy super-villain

**Warning: Absence of permanent wedgie not guaranteed.

in fairness, I feel sorry for the guys who think they have to look like superman. please dont look like superman. don’t do the tights thing.

Basically, I wasn’t even allowed to watch Cat Woman until I was thirteen because the images were considered “too explicit”.

And so I turned my attention to more practical goals. I decided I would be Spiderman.

I dreamt of having spidey powers. I pretended to have spidey powers, I owned spidey merch (stolen from my brother), I wore spidey costumes.

That was my childhood.

I still want to be spidey.

And I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say.

Nevermind. Go web go!

nooooooo goddammit

 

Cheers,

Penny

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hair like a disney princess (hint: no)

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dear peeps,

grammar and pics are probably going to be shit in this post (because im raging it onto my iphone rn)

JUST LIKE MY HAIR.

do you have curly hair? then you can guess what is about to be said (typed furiously onto tiny keyboard)

do you not have curly but have seen someone with “curly” (frizzy) hair?

this is a GOOD version (awesome actually)

let me explain why.

its too challenging to take care of for anyone who does not have the utmost determintion not to look like an oily/bushy hag.

or give up and wear cela.

#totallypositivepost

well i got my hair cut today, and because i was feeling upbeat and adventurous, i said (yes i actually said this): “you can just dry it naturally, no straightening”

did you just…

*a moment of silence while the nature of my stupidity sinks in*

the hairdresser was of course thrilled to have my “exciting” hair to play with. note: play.

after cutting, in went about fifty different products (curl cream, mousse, “anti-frizz” conditioner, and “nutritioner” or whatever-she-called-it were just a few…)

having mild doubts, yet being the naive *twit* that i am, i said nothing.

then the diffuser was pulled out of a drawer – and did i hear dust being blown off ot it?

needless to say, i looked like a crispy, greasy, bird-nesty queen from the…future? when we go through the next dark ages?

“do you like it?”

biting back tears, i stared into the mirror. (i suppose the good thing would be that i was giving myself r-patz cheeks #sosexy)

“well, its um…curly”

“i think its extremely flattering”

“its…different than usual”

“oh. shall i blow it straight?”

“maybe, thatd be nice, thank you”

so, me sitting there with my face the color of, well, an embarassed face, her pretending not to be offended, i waited for the magic disney styling to finally happen, as it usually does.

bring it on!

but oh, whats this? a blow-dryer, i see.

and she proceeded to BLOW MY HAIR STRAIGHT WITH ALL THE CURL PRODUCT IN IT.

not wanting to cause any further complications, i did my best to zone out and ignore the massacre that was happening before my eyes.

so, looking beautiful, i got up to pay, and found out that the careful treatment i had received was going to cost me almost 20.- more than the original price.

im going to wash my hair (for the third time today) and cry in the shower now.

judge me, i dont even care. *sniff*

cheers,

penny

p.s. ok so i ended up editing it on the tablet and adding pics.

Encouraging Thunder Award *magestic rumbling* – why i must obsessively hack around on my keyboard :)

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Darling peeps,

It is my last night before senior year, and I’m trying my best not to have a mini panic attack as I type. I want to share a last thing with you now, before I sink into the pit of despair (=stress) that will be my graduation paper.

I have been nominated by the lovely Pooja for what is called the “ecouraging thunder” award!

*hums

*hums “my favorite things” to self*

These are the rules:(copied straight out from her cool blog, hehe – ditto, dear :P)

  1. Thank the person who nominated you (checkaroo).
  2. Include the award’s logo (sankiu again ˆˆ).
  3. Nominate other blogs.
  4. List the reason(s) you started blogging.

Alors, my nominees are:

Mia

Mon

Hollie

Tracy

Naja

RG

And this, me loves, is why I entered the blogosphere:

When I was eleven, my teacher set us the assignment to write a short story every week. And of course, being the…special…child that I was, my first story was all about a nine-year-old boy who manages to get stuck on the ceiling during a particularly rough game of dodge-ball in gym class.

The boy’s name was Karl, and the story was a hit. I continued to write about Karl and his misadventures (always reading them out loud to my class-mates, because at age eleven one has no shame) for the following two years – until primary school ended. And then, as I started middle school, I was left staring into a void of non-readership, no one to write for. It was a dark two years of my life.

This may or may not be the cause of my incredibly unique fashion choices in that period, but let’s not dwell.

yes, brightly colored eye-shadow with no mascara was, sadly, one of them

Then, I discovered a new light: the school’s semi-annual magazine! With great relief, I poured my heart into a single article every six months, until recently, when even this could no longer quench my thirst for fame and recognition.

So I started Penny Shares Too Much, with the intention of slowly building up an audience that I can provide with tidbits for all eternity.

And now I sit here, quietly hoping that no one unfollows me for this blatent honesty.

sure, penny, tell yourself this

Actually, no, I really do hope that you enjoy what I write, and if anyone has opinions that will shock and offend me, hell, I’ll even be thrilled to see those in the comment section!

I suppose everyone writes for their own amusement to a certain extent, but don’t we all want our voice to be heard?

Cheers,

Penny

Family Discussions – the optimal death (trigger alert)

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Hey peeps,

 

So, I was at a restaurant with my mom and brother, and we were discussing life, as family might at a restaurant. #muchphilosophical

And we were sitting outside, so I suddenly realized that the black emptiness next to us was rather unsettling, reminding one somewhat of “The Hound of the Baskervilles”.

Silence fell, as my two people turned to admire the darkness.

i mean you just KNOW that that creepy-ass dog was just waiting to attack us all.

“Well”, my mother remarked, “I’m closest to the edge, so I’d get eaten first. And while it feasted on me, you could both escape.”

Futher silence ensued.

My brother and I sat there, feeling the immense guilt of our mother hypothetically sacrificing herself for us.

The thing is, as I then remarked, that it would be even crappier if a child sacrificed themself for their parent. For obvious reasons.

Anyway, before it gets too dark on this post, let’s move on!

also: TRIGGER ALERT

Somehow, we drifted from this to the topic of “the optimal death”. Suicide, in particular, since we can’t really choose our death otherwise.

My theory, btw, is that the best way to die would be to jump off a really really high place (for example a plane) with no parachute, and as you were plummetting to your death, you could enjoy your last seconds of life, feeling that flying sensation, spreading your arms and having the wind in your hair.

just a slightly different landing…

The only problem is that then you might suddenly regret killing yourself. So, as my brother was about to offer his opinion on this, my mother piped in:

“Do you think people are listening to us?”

 

Cheers,

Penny

Sleeping Under The Stars – getting hit by meteors

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Hey peeps,

 

Yes…it’s been a while…

I have various excuses on hand (one of them being a combination of laziness and the big bang theory), but let’s not dwell.

let the cuteness calm you.

I have been quite busy the last week, including my close-to-nature experience of last night with my best friend and her sister.

It all started with their determination to prove to their parents that they could definitely manage to camp in a tent for a night (I’m not entirely sure how that happened but there seemed to be mention of a five star hotel, a bathrobe, and much smugness on somebody’s part). And I was then invited to join them in their endeavor.

We were going to fight against this philosophy.

So, I arrived, and since I don’t own a sleeping-bag, we began thinking of other comfortable methods of spending the night in the grass. We set up:

  1. A tent.
  2. A hammock.
  3. A lounge chair.
  4. Two air-mattresses.

The tent came with one little problem, namely that we were missing one of the pin-down-thingies #professionallingo

However, being the ressourceful geniuses that we are, we came up with an alternative solution:

This be tha sista holding our solution.

This be tha sista holding our solution. (this solution would later help demonstrate my extreme [lack of] tennis skillz)

This was eventually achieved, and it started getting dark, so naturally, we proceeded to gossip and tell totally intimate secrets. #omgsosneaky

cute toddler or mean girls? better go with both.

And then, as it got darker, we realized the grass was comfy, so with two sleeping bags and the air-mattresses, we completely left the tent and its friends at one end of the garden, and made ourselves comfortable under the night sky.

shhhhhhhh…. #notquite

AND THEN THE AMAZINGNESS HAPPENED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SUDDENLY DOZENS OF SHOOTING STARS JUST STARTED FLYING AROUND.

I AM NOT EVEN JOKING.

I HAD NEVER SEEN ONE BEFORE.

It was magic :)

So, we started doing some serious wishing. Like, big-time abitiousness here.

But I won’t tell you what my wishes were and ruin my magical chances.

It is a rare occasion on which I get to use this meme. I am always grateful.

We fell asleep at about 1 in the morning, and then woke up at the crack of dawn to the totally *un-judgemental* stares of joggers passing by. But hey, we had more fun than they did, so I regret nothing.

Here are some proof pictures:

In the night, taken with a 6% battery phone. And no, there weren't any "normal" ones... :D

In the night, taken with a 6% battery phone. And no, there weren’t any “normal” ones… :D

Drying stuff off the next morning. Who knew the cold would cause the moisture to descend upon us :P

Drying stuff off the next morning. Who knew the cold would cause the moisture to descend upon us :P

Well, we couldn't just not use the tent at all...

Well, we couldn’t just not use the tent at all…

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oh my god, this pic just out-styled us all O_o #nowifeelbad

Oh, and I forgot to mention: the shooting stars turned out to be the result of the meteor showers. Just fyi. #funfact. Yeah.

Ah, it’s nice to talk to my lovely readers again. ˆˆ

 

Cheers,

Penny

I Almost Met Freddie Mercury (and other trivialities)

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Good morning peeps!

 

Yes, I’m up, and actually writing again, finally. Now before I continue, I’d like to just say that I wish I were still asleep because my mother came in with her motivated “rise and shine” just as I was about to meet Freddie Mercury in my dream.

i will begrudge her this forever

Apart from that though, I’m writing out of guilt, since I sortof disappeared for like three days. But I have much exciting news! *audience squints unconvincedly*

Well, I did go to the library, and borrow books for research on my graduation paper. My topic is 9/11, so this shouldn’t be dismal.

*immediately feels guilty about slight humor*

Oh, but in other news: My mother has decided that it would be in all of our health-benefits to try going vegan for a week. Testing it before a permanent decision or something.

I am that man. That man is me. The ball is tofu.

And so of course, I am now realizing how much of my diet consists of things that apparently don’t qualify as vegan. Such as everything that isn’t fruits or vegetables.

I had an entire pack of rice-cakes for breakfast this morning.

It was delicious.

(They even specify the “ingredients” on the packaging: rice.)

But tomorrow is the last day, and then I hope (I’m assuming, please God) that Mom will come to her senses. I’ll die from eating meat and cheese if need be (and we all know I mean the cheese), because otherwise I’ll die from not eating them. And which one is the slower, more painful death? That’s right.

So, enjoy all the beautiful food you eat today, and savor the taste for me!

 

Cheers,

Penny

things to do instead of that assignment thats due today – how to win at life

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Hi peeps,

 

I’m hyperventilating as I write this, because while I’m supposed to be writing a French essay that’s due this evening, every cell in my body is fighting against my basic survival instinct, convincing me that ambitions aren’t important. (More to this wisdom with my inner hobo.)

In other words, I really really don’t want to write the essay. #wheretheresnowill

Here is a list of things I have done in an effort to fail my class:

1. Spend entire evening binge-watching Jimmy Fallon.

2. Practice musical instrument – you’re being “productive“, not “running away from responsibility”, sheesh.

3. Pretend to do “research” on your topic (hello, google images).

4. Lie face-down on couch.

5. Stare into open refrigerator, munching on a rice-cake.

6. Plan what I’m going to do to make myself do the assignment. (lose track and wake up on pinterest)

7. Have a headache.

8. Search for “how to stop procrastinating” – subsequently watch all of Superwoman’s YouTube videos.

9. Open Word. Choose font. Cry.

Well, those are my positive words of advice for today, because now I’m going to go “write my essay”…

A high-five for everyone who made it to the bottom of this post!

U rock man

 

Cheers,

Penny