I got drunk after what Americans call "prom" and passed out on a trampoline The end.

these national days are a bad meme

There once was a legend about treasures and gold, about all things magic... About a girl and her boy, wizards and dragons, all creature you'll find, in the depths of your dream, in your heart, in your mind, far across the land, high above the sea, there is a land of adventure, a home for you and me, now this is your path, to greatness you are sworn, the world will come witness a true hero reborn, because this is a legend of a tale untold.

*Mumbles something about story's* that is what i do...oh right well. The Man and the Monkey is a story i wrote like five years ago. When i was in the Writers Corner group here on b.net. Enjoy!

Here's one for you. When I was in the 10th grade, my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. It was an absolute shock to all of our family, and we couldn't have seen it coming from a mile away. Months went by and his chemo didn't really work that well, he was getting worse and worse as the days went by and our family had pretty much given up hope, and my Dad was kind of content with dying he said. Sad time for us all. There was one last hope though, our doctor was apparently part of some medical testing group that had their hands on a new type of treatment for the cancer that was similar to chemotherapy but didn't have as bad of side effects as the other, more commonly used chemotherapy had. So, we decided we'd give it a shot, we didn't have much to lose anyways. The doctor guided us step by step on how to care for him following the chemotherapy and even helped us move into a new house while he was our doctor. (We moved closer to the hospital so we could get better healthcare than at our local clinic, we used to live in a pretty small town) Over time, his diagnosis got better and better, about 5 months later it was as if he no longer had cancer at all, he was healthy enough to run around and play with us, it was as if the cancer had never even happened. Everyone in our family was overjoyed. Back at the doctors office, my mother was worrying and worrying over what the bill was going to be, I mean.. new treatment.. not only that but it worked.. and extremely well at that. The doctor came up to us and my mother asked, "So, will my insurance cover any of the costs?" and he replied, "yes, most of it actually." I could tell she was relieved, but who knows how much money would be left... Then he said "I've been touched by your family, and me and my nurses have gathered enough money to pay off the rest of the costs. My mother couldn't believe it. We started to walk away in disbelieve when we heard the doctor say, "Oh, one moment, wait" Mother turned around and said "Yeah?" he said, "I need just one thing from you though." Confused by what he would need she asked, "What do you need?" The doctor said, "I need about Tree Fiddy" Now it was around this time when I realized the doctor was 7 stories tall and was actually a crustacean from the Paleozoic era. Goddamn Nessie! That goddamn Loch Ness monster had gotten us again. Mother stood there screaming at him about who was going to pay our bills as he swam into the distance. So now, I don't really trust doctors that much anymore, because I always remember this incident and it makes it that much harder to trust them. Tl;dr: I really, really don't like hospitals that much anymore.

I don't need a day for this. My life is writing stories.