I shouldn't be admitting this, but I've broken quite a few laws. Not intentionally, of course. My uncle and aunt are ex-cops and they'd probably ensure that justice was achieved. Despite my best efforts to be a law-abiding citizen, I've accidentally slipped up. My first example is when I was a younger girl, about nine or ten. I was at a Goodwill, and I walked to the toy section. My sister and I went over to look at the items, and something caught my eye. At Goodwills they have baskets full of tiny toys. You can grab a plastic bag, fill it up, and pay about $1.99 for them. I did not know that, and I assumed everything was free. At that Goodwill they also had nothing that told them an unpurchased item was leaving the store. Instead of those oval machines by the doors, they just had security cameras. I grabbed some of the "free" items, put them in my pocket, and walked over to my mom as she checked out. When she was done, we strolled out of the store as I put my hands in my jacket. The stuff I stole wasn't really interesting. One thing is a miniature pink plastic stick with a cartoonish bunny head on it. I have no idea why I'd want to take that. Another time I broke the law was quite recently. It was in the fall of this school year, and it was clean up day at my town. My entire youth group was along to help clean, including my friend, Carissa. Oh, and my twin Zoe. The fire station had summoned the police and garabge company to come help. The garbage company had brought out large garbage trucks. We were going to put litter and trash into it. My friends and I were follwing the group, when one truck turned to the side. Zoe, Carissa, and I were all encouraged to ride on the back of it. The back of a garbage truck! Sure, it's slightly smelly and probaby not the cleanliest, but it feels like an amusement park ride. You hold onto a railing with your friends, lean to the side, and talk obnoxiously loud with your friends as the truck drives around. Then, you hope off, pcik up trash, throw it in the back, and get back on again. Oh, I forgot to mention a man from our youth group came with us. He's a really nice doctor with super strength and I suspect he's not entirely human. He reminds me of superman, so I shall refer to him as that. Superman rode on the other side of the garbage truck. Everything was exceptionally fun. I never knew picking up trash was exciting, but with my friends it was. Plus, we got free rides on the Garbage truck. Something started to seem wrong when an old, scruffy man climbed into the passenger seat. Zoe, Carissa, and I had no idea what was going on because we were in the very back of the truck. We couldn't hear the driver talk to the passenger, we were too far back. Superman went up to talk to the driver, he came back, smiled at us, and we kept driving. Except we didn't stop at any of the houses. Instead we stopped at an unfamiliar house with a broken garage. Superman got off, we followed. We all appproached. The scruffy man hopped out of the truck, went inside the house, and pulled a young man out by the ear. A series of cursing and violence ensued and Superman swooped in to stop the violence. "Stay on the sidewalk girls," He said to us as he ran over to help the flustered driver. He lifted up the broken garage door (with one hand!) to reveal mountains of trash. Superman and the driver threw it into the truck back as we watched. Everytime Carrisa, Zoe, and I moved to help Superman told us to stay back. Appearently the bags were filled with broken glass bottles. After breaking up the father and son fight, we all got back onto the Garabge truck to ride off for some more trash. Carissa, Zoe, and I were all slightly nervous from the encounter, but we eagerly hopped onto to the truck. Only to be stopped by a friendly officer in his police quad. Carissa, Zoe, and I all hid behind the side of the garbage truck. The driver and Superman went to talk to this young officer. His name is Bryanb without the b. Superman told us we were going to go with the officer and back to our parents. He told us not to worry, but we worried anyway. Appearently it's illegal for minors to ride on garbage trucks. So, this friendly officer decided to collect the girls with his quad! We all shuffled over as he gave us a warm smile. "You girls can sit up here," He said kindly, patting the seats next to him. Nobody moved to get in. "Or you can ride in the back," He sighed. I felt bad for breaking his heart, but I climbed into the back of the quad with my friends. We all sat there as he started the little vehicle. Now that I think about it, isn't it illegal to put minors in an open trunk with no seatbelt or way of protecting themselves in case of a crash? Ah well, if he was a police officer he probably knew what he was doing. Probably. Superman waved to us as we were driven off. After a few minutes, we were returned to our families. Upon reuniting my mother had to chat with the police officer. The two finished their discussion, the officer rode off, and my mom came over to us. She shook her head and laughed. "At least you got to ride a garbage truck," she grinned. "Now come help us pick up some more trash." After cleaning the rest of the town. We all ate hotdogs, chips, and candy. So, those are the major times I have broken the law. Now, I have two important questions for my readers. Have you ever unintentionally broken the law? or Has a police officer ever approached you? Please don't include times you've intentionally broken a serious law. I don't need to know that. Anyways, I want you all to go out into the world, and try not to break the law. Good luck.
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Much to my friend's dismay, I love puns. Most of the time, the play on words never make me laugh out loud, but they do cause me to grin. I look like a terrfying, smiling idiot when I hear lots of corny puns.
I enjoy making puns myself. Wether it's to annoy the ones I love or to just cheer up my day, I think they're wonderful. I'm not sure how I developed a liking for them. I think it began when I was starting to come up with jokes. Everyone I knew always used puns as a form of comedy. My dad told a lot of them to me, and we're still telling them to each other today. We often have little battles to see who has the funniest joke. My family judges the puns. So, most of the jokes I knew of were plays on words. I happened to enjoy them a lot, and they made me smile. Over the years, I began to form lots of them in my mind. I'll think of one, get a dumb grin, and eagerly await the moment I'll be able to tell somebody about it. Usually, everyone groans in annoyance, a few smile, but I don't care if anybody hates them. I like my terrible puns, they make me happy. Well, I'll need to wrap up this short blog post with a question. I can't type too long or this machine will compewter out of energy. Do any of you have a specific style of humor? If you're confused as to what the question is asking, I'll give two examples. ex: I like telling jokes that confuse people. ex: I enjoy physical comedy (which my brother does, I used to whack myself with a plastic hammer to stop his crying and make him laugh). |
AuthorHi, I'm Samantha! My favorite color is red and I enjoy eating chocolate. Feel free to explore my blog! ArchivesCategories |