This weekend, while visiting the family, I went through some old boxes in order to throw some stuff out. Along with finding a truly terrifying photograph of me as a 7th grade cheerleader (it wasn’t your average cheerleading squad, I assure you, as we were rejects, mere overflow from an actual try-out) Toby and I found a book of poems I wrote and illustrated in 1985. Here are two from that series.
- I hate the taste of brochlie
- I hate the taste of peas
- And I hate it when I’m teased
- People are always saying
- How stupid they may feel
- I’m sure I feel the same sometimes
- And that I says for real.
- Me, myself and I
- Are climbing up a tree
- There’s lots of things we spy
- Climbing up a tree.
- I spy the sea
- Hollared me
- And a bumble bee
- I see a fly
- Called out I
- And a guy
- Hollared I
- I spy and elf
- Called myself
- Sitting on a shelf
- There’s lots of things that we may seeI,
- myself and me
What a dork.
you can’t even spell broccoli. how RETARDED you must be…
OT: have you taken a look at this? http://www.roguelibrarian.com/diary/272/ link from zeldman.com
I am indeed. It’s no wonder I may feel stupid sometimes, eh?
I love broccoli now. And peas? They are awesome too.
I should rewrite this poem.
1985, revisited.
Thanks, grijn!
That book was super, truly. Even if Toby says it’s (at times) a “one trick pony” ;]
(no need to back this up, TJ, I understand your claim).
I love that you gave yourself bangs in the second pic. I recently found a diary of mine from around the same year (a cabbage patch kid diary, I might add) and one of my entries was soley on my excitement to watch “Alf” that night. Apparently, not much going on in 1985.
I particularly enjoyed seeing the handwriting sample. :)
Nice detail on the shoes, the smiles and the tilt of your head.
I’d like to know who the woman is in the pink dress, the one who’s laughing at me. I’ll kick her ass, I will.
And I’m not sure, but I think I have a mustache.
And is that pie?
I think it’s an aerial view of a glass of juice.
Apparently, even at that tender age, you’d mastered the skill of perspective drawing. Well…except for the couch.
Your brochlie, btw, is quite well-executed.
Proportion has never been my strong suit. look at the size of that plate! If brochlie were A) spelled that way and B) that large I might not like it as much as I do.
Glass of juice. Could be. Could be.
There are many more where that came from.
now that brochlie is like monkeys i like brochlie too!!!
brochlie is the new monkey.
please make a note of it.
I wish i could find that damn lemur story.
Note made.