Story Speech

MagnificentMac
Story Speech Outline
Period 4
THE FARM, THE AMISH, AND THE TEN YEAR OLD GIRLS

Intro-
Two hours north of Milwaukee, Wisconsin there is a farm. On the 160 acres, there is a house. And in the house, there were two ten year old girls. It was late fall, the weather had started to change. The girls decided that they should use up the last of their summer energy, so they put on their hats, zipped up their coats, and pulled on their boots. After marching up Misty Mountain, around a tree, over a bridge, through a log, and across a road, the girls decided to go watch the neighbors prepare for winter. And this is where our story begins….

Body-
· Mikayla <3 Amish
o Psyched to watch them walk back and forth from the house to the barn
· Mikayla and Hannah decide to build a fort on the property line
· Gathered many sticks, stones, and some mud to cement the hut together
· Mikayla sat down to make an axe in case bears came to eat them, Hannah snuck back into the house for some water and the bag of Jelly Bellies
· Came back
· Talked about school, friends, Christmas
· SAW THE AMISH!!!
o Walked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
o Looked like the girls’ age.
· Mikayla abandoned the axe, bears could feel free to eat them, the axe was too much work.
· Time passes (20-ish minutes)
· Mikayla is seized by a sudden urge to yell “YEE-HAW” at the top of her lungs.
o About 3x
· All is silent
· Hannah pretends not to know her and stares off in the other direction, talking animatedly to the jelly beans.
· Suddenly, a noise was heard from inside the Amish barn….
o Mikayla, staying true to who she is, yelled “WHAT?!” at the top of her lungs, while Hannah and the Jelly Bellies had an in-depth conversation about World Peace
o Another yell from inside the barn
§ Obviously “yee-haw” this time.
§ Mikayla yells back, Hannah starts telling the Jelly Bellies about her family, which consists of 200+ people in the immediate group.
· Amish boy comes outside the large barn doors
o Yells “Yee-haw”
o Mikayla yodels back and yells “yee-haw”
o Amish boy yells several times
§ Looks like an American Idol performer, throwing his head back and belting to the sky
§ “Yee-haw” competition goes on for several minutes
· Amish boy starts doing messed-up dance-ish-y move
o (do move)
o In between yee-haws
· Mikayla and Hannah get scared and run back into the farm house. Once inside, they laugh hysterically.
· Decide to go back outside to see if Amish boy is still there.
o He is
o Giggles and screams
o They run back to the house
· Many moons later, they meet the possible Yee-haw-er.
· Named Jacob
· Worth yee-haw-ing at
Conclusion-
· Lesson learned- never trust Mikayla with large rocks, she has a tendency to hurt herself.

Hello!

Hello all, I do realize it's been quite a while since we've graced your eyes with our lovely anecdotes. We do have a lot going on right now, so we apologize in advance for any lapse in posting.

Life is GREAT! I'm so happy with what's happening in my life right now. I started tennis last week, and I got tendonitis after the first two practices! I'm much better now and back to playing and having fun!

I hope everyone is living a FABULOUS life!
MagMac

Innocence

Waking up I see that everything is OK
The first time in my life and now it's so great
Slowing down
I look around and I am so amazed
I think about the little things that make life great
I wouldn't change a thing about it
This is the best feeling

[Chorus]
This innocence is brilliantI hope that it will stay
This moment is perfect
Please don't go away
I need you now
And I'll hold on to it
Don't you let it pass you by

I found a place so safe, not a single tear
The first time in my life and now it's so clear
Feel calm, I belong, I'm so happy here
It's so strong and now I let myself be sincere
I wouldn't change a thing about it
This is the best feeling

[Chorus]

It's a state of bliss, you think you're dreaming
It's the happiness inside that you're feelingI
t's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry
It's a state of bliss, you think you're dreaming
It's the happiness inside that you're feeling
It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry
It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry

This innocence is brilliant
Makes you wanna cry
This innocence is brilliance
Please don't go away
Cause I need you now
And I'll hold on to it
Don't you let it pass you by

[Chorus]

"Innocence"
Performed by Avril Lavigne

I really like the lyrics to this song. It's beautiful. Life should be innocent (to some degree). It is brilliant, and we should hold on to it for as long as possible. Savor the moments that take your breath away.

MagMac

Happy Valentine's Day!

<3
Hannyloulou & Magnificent Mikayla

Life in General

We live life in the fast lane, don't we?
Everything must be super fast, nothing can be slow or heck, moving at a normal pace. We want what we want when we want it, period, end of story. Nevermind the inconvenience to someone else.
We don't have much patience for people that are slower, in mental processing as well as physical skills. We don't let them be the people that they are, we try to convert them into what we want them to be or shove them out of the way in our vain attempt to best the physical world.
Everyone is human (one only hopes). And here on Earth, we try and beat that humanity right out of you, don't we? We try to overcome life's natural roadblocks, no matter how small they are. Whether it's making coffe or raking leaves, everything must be high-tech, our needs must be complied with immediately.... But no matter. We get what we want, don't we?

Hey Hey Hey!

I know its been forever... I don't have much time to post now so I'm gonna make this quick.
Hey y'all, how goes it? Life out here in the west (hannyloulou, I know you get the joke) is pretty good. Dances are coming up, etc. etc. so that should be fun. How're all of you?
Loves,
MagnificentMac

Why, hello there favorite show of all time.

Ode to Neil Cicierega

O (that’s Ecphonesis) Neil, how I love you.
You know it is true.
I find you quite genius
And terminally cute.
I’m fond of your quirkiness.
I adore your sweet nose.
In my dreams every night,
I kneel at your toes.
When summer arrives
I hope to visit your state
And then you will know of me
And feast off my plate (of love)
There are so many things I wish I could ask you
Like “How do you feel about marriage?”
And if besides the word spiffy do you like askew?
But sometimes I worry….
Will you ever find out? Will you love me someday?
Or will your vision remain blurry?
Neil, I want you to know,
I’m not just any ordinary fangirl.
I’m aware you are as precious as sea monkeys,
Or a room filled with pearls.
You must find me out.
I will make you a vow,
My love is for life!
And you must know this…but how?

Neil…There is only one way to truly show you the depth of my feeling, my ardor, for you. It is an eternal gift, one that will last forever, and allow us to be together without the judgment of the people around us. We are the enlightened ones. I will show you how I am devoted to you. All this, will be proved through a varied assortment of lemon desserts. I am a true believer, and I know the things that all true believers should. In fact, I am quite sure that I have gathered more intelligence on the magnificent subject that is you, than any other being of my situation. Therefore, I know where to seek you out to fulfill the finest details of my proposal. I shall travel by car to your residence in the charming town of Kingston, Massachusetts. I shall tread carefully. The place of your birth is blessed ground. I know that you are a late sleeper, and although it shall pain me to disturb the angelic serenity of your sleeping form, I shall arrive at your home in the early hours of the morning and knock gently upon your window. Your bed is positioned alongside a window, am I correct? I’m aware that you will be a tad startled to find an unfamiliar girl standing outside watching you sleep, but I will be able to put you at ease. I’ll motion for you to meet me at the front door, holding up a lemon meringue pie and smiling nervously. You are a kind person; you will take pity on the poor, love-struck girl in yellow. Perhaps, if I prove to be one of the chosen, you’ll invite me into the fabled House of Cicierega, as I offer the pie, shuffling my feet from side to side. You cannot blame me Neil, I have found myself in your presence, and it’s so difficult not to be overwhelmed. But I have confidence in my ability to bake, and such a scrumptious lemon pie is too irresistible to be ignored. Once again, you’ll be amazed at the savory flavors playing your taste buds like a piccolo. You may offer me some of the pie, but I will decline. I must impress upon you the extreme importance that no one in your family must eat the pie besides you. I’ll tell you how devastated I would be if it was digested in any stomach besides yours. After all, I made it with abounding love for you, and you alone. You might give me one of the looks that say “I fear you” as so many of the unenlightened ones have given me. Over time, this look will pass. But no, I’m getting ahead of myself. I will leave you, and you will return to bed with curiosity about the memorable visitor you had, taking the pie with you and secreting it in your room as I had requested. This sunrise will be an unusual one for you. As will the next. It will happen in a similar fashion, although the desert will be a golden yellow Lemon Sponge Pudding. And so it will continue everyday for a month. Lemon Coconut Bars, Lemon Cherry Cheesecake, Lemon Ricotta Cake, Lemon Lattice Biscuits, Lemon Poppy Seed Tarts. You’ll find yourself waiting for me in the mornings, looking forward to seeing me. An unnatural excitement will bubble up inside you every time I rap my fingers on your window. I’ll sit and watch as you gorge yourself on the confection before you, and I’ll take the empty dish from the day before as I leave. You won’t sleep well. You lose weight, despite the large amounts of sugar you’re eating every morning. You’ll be anxious, and depressed when I’m not with you, and you’ll do your best to hide it from your circle of family and friends. They might notice you are more focused on your art than usual, but nothing more. Some of your best work will be created in the first two weeks of our, unconventional acquaintance. But this time will end sooner than I want it to. It’s been a dream made real to see your face light up every morning when you looked at me. But all good things come to an end. And on that day, the 30th of the month, the leaded dish that contained your amphetamine-laced Snowy Lemon Bars included a higher dose than usual. You easily strolled down your front walk with me to my car, and hazily called for shotgun. Of course, you got it. I’d give you everything you ever want, Neil, including a trip to Disney Land. So that’s where we headed, down the coast, to the sunny state of Florida. And although they’re more well-known for oranges, quite a few lemons are grown there as well. I am well-prepared. I called ahead to the realtors and webmasters of the site www.sellmeflorida.com and used my entire bank account to put a down payment on a house in Grove City, located on Lemon Bay. The house is a quaint one, and it even has a healthy lemon tree thriving in the backyard. I was very specific about that. By now of course, you have recovered from your amphetamine induced stupor, and are more than a little worried about where we are. I tell you it was a surprise, because we won’t be able to be together for much longer, and I thought we could take a little trip. I tell you it’s only for a few days. You’re satisfied, and completely mollified as soon as you see the Tupperware in the backseat is filled with lemon pastry of all sorts. I take you inside and show you your room, which is equipped with a computer, keyboard, and a vase of blooming lemon tree branches. It’s cozy. I show you around the rest of the house, which is old and historical, but well-maintained. The location is ideal, on the outskirts of town, and set back from the road, so we can barely hear the passing traffic. I suggest you should go and take a nap, while I make dinner. After such a long ride, you must be tired. As soon as you’re snoring daintily, I remove the glass jar of Latrodectus bishopi, red widow spiders I hand picked from a nearby lemon tree, from my purse, open the lid, and look on as they crawl across your skin. You twitch, and they bite. I’m ready with my bottle of lemon juice, and squirt some onto every bite I see. You wake up and wince from the stinging feeling penetrating your dreams. You ask me what I’m doing, and I answer, the tears rolling down my face. “Neil,” I tell you. “I’m sending you to a better place. The pain will end, and you will be welcomed with open arms. The more suffering we all go through on earth, the more gracious our reception in the afterlife.” Leaving the spiders to do their jobs, I tearfully exit the room, with you yelling after me. I lock the door. But I’ve left a note. It tells you, that however much I’d like you to be addicted to my cooking and company, it’s really the bottle of Amphetamine on your dresser that I picked up in a pharmacy on the drive that holds your affections. I don’t expect you to be able to resist it for long, your addiction will get the better of you. Also, I inform you that all the paint and dust in your room is infected with lead, as is your blood, considering the dishes I used to bake your pies. You scream my name, and look around for a way to break out, but there are no heavy objects in the room with you, and no windows to smash. There are only the pills. Time passes, and eventually, your body craves the relief that the dose of Amphetamine will give. You swallow half the bottle, figuring I’ll never let you out anyway. Your drug saturated bloodstream alters your thought process, and you move to investigate the previously ignored lemon branches, still sitting in the vase on your dresser. You reach out to touch them, and the thorns scratch your precious skin. It’s a bizarre feeling, and although it hurts, it almost makes you feel refreshed, new. Like waking up after a long sleep. You don’t realize the damage you’re doing to yourself as you scrape the thorns along your arm. Drops of your blood burn hot, scarlet paths down your sides and splash onto the floor. You barely notice. You’re not suicidal, you’re delirious. Drugged to within an inch of your life. It’s a beautiful, heartbreaking spectacle. Hours later, I’ll return to find you lying on the floor of your room. Your body could no longer withstand the effects of the lead poisoning, the anorexia it brought you, the blood loss, and the overdose of amphetamine. It was too weak, it simply shut down. I’ll gently wipe the blood from your face and hands, brush the hair from your face, and lift you onto the computer chair. Rolling you into the backyard, I’ll gently lift you from the chair into the specially-made casket of lemon wood. I painted it a deep red, as the mark of the true Lemon Demon. I have ropes lying ready for me to lower it into the hole that was the fruit of my effort during your last hours. The branches of the lemon tree cast a wavering, lacey shadow upon the dirt that fell in clumps onto the wood encasing your body; the lemon tree that gave its thorny twigs for the vase on your dresser. I will spend the days I have left sitting in its shade, singing. Singing to you Neil. Singing of your death by lemons.