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A usual day for grocery shopping? Not.

As I slammed down the door, my 80 year-old mother screamed after me, “DON’T FORGET THE CRACKERS!!” So at 1 in the morning my mother sent me out for crackers for some food craving–and she’s not even pregnant.light

So I went to Walmart. Inside, walking around the “junk foods” section I stopped and stared in amazement. Two groups of couples were having a grocery cart race! As I watched, the two guys climbed into their carts, then the girls pushed as hard as they could then start their cheerleading routine. As the two guys zoomed down the main isle one smashed into a cash register.

Then a sleepy voice announced over the speakerphones, “the gwuy with the fat belly is winner. He wins a year’s swupply of Rits crackers.” The guy who didn’t smash himself into the cash register stood up and yelled “I won!” The other started yelling insanities and started trowing anything at the winner–cans, boxes, fruits–anything he could get his hands on. Pretty soon a couple of employees dragged him and his girl outside of the store .

But seeing that gave me an idea. I saw our next door neighbors, Diane and Cole Smit walking down the “Movies” isle. I discreetly gabbed a box of Ritz cracker, and walked over to where they were. Cole was looking at a cover of a dvd and yawning incessantly. I came up and said “Hey Cole, Hey Diane!”

“Hey,” yawned Cole.

“Oh hey girl! What are you doing here at his time of night? Can’t sleep?” asked Diane. She seemed very hyper. I guess she had too much chocolate. I remember seeing Cole buying a huge box of chocolates the other day. I guess it was for their wedding anniversary.

“No, not really. What about you? Had too much chocolate?”

Her face grew red, signaling that I hit bulls eye.

“Hey, isn’t that Jacky Chan over there? Omg it’s Jacky Chan!!” I yelled, and started jumping up and down, faking my performance quite nicely, I thought.

She gasped, and dropped the two dvds she had in her hands. “Where? Where?” she screeched, letting all the effects of the chocolates show through. I slipped the Ritz box of crackers in her basket. Even Cole has stopped yawning and was looking for Jacky Chan, so I think my performance had been first-class.

“Just kidding!” I said with a big smile and a wink. Diane’s face grew so red it looked like the setting sun. I ran and disappeared around the next corner before she could say another word.

I grabbed more Ritz boxes and continued to search for more victims. I would bump into people, trip them, or distract them by shooting one of those kiddie arrows and making heavy objects like soup cans come thundering down to the ground. And then I’d always slip in the Ritz cracker box when they’re weren’t looking. After about 1 hour of hard work I had got every customer in the store.

When I got home, I heard yells coming out of Diane’s and Cole’s house. Me and my mother opened our back door and heard,

“What do you mean you didn’t buy this? I thought we were in a committed relationship that involved to NOT lying to each other! WHY are you LYING to me?” obviously that came from Diane.

“Well, I’m not lying, and I didn’t buy the darn crackers! Would you leave me ALONE! You won’t let me sleep, you won’t let me do anything! And DON”T start blaming my mother!” yelled Cole.

“I’m not talking about your stupid mother! I’m talking about YOU!” yelled Diane.

“There you go blaming my mother again! Would you stop–!”

There was a thudding noise, and yelp, and slammed door and the sound of a car starting and zooming off.

“AND DON’T COME BACK!” screamed Cole out his front door.

Me and my mother looked at each other in opened-mouth surprise.

“Oops!” I said to myself.”Amazing what you can do with a box of crackers.”

~~from the observing antennas of a butterfly…

condron.us

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Yep. I’m getting my own hosted hosh-posh website for Words of a Butterfly!

Here’s the link: wordbutterfly.co.cc

I’m still building it, so be patient with me people. 😀

~~~from the site-building butterfly…

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I laughed my socks off with this one…. sorta remind you why you shouldn’ve payed more attention back in language class. Enjoy!

Parlez-vous francais?

Ablas espaniol?

Sprecken sie Deutsch?

Ni hue shou Zhong guo ren?

~

Knock yourselves out!

~~from the french, spanish, indian, italian, etc, butterfly…

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Odd photos

PICT0015

Just thought I’d show these to the world. Enjoy.

light

~~from the picturesque butterfly…

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What is it?

I was looking at the pictures I took recently in my camera, and found this one. I can’t imagine what it is or where I took it. To me it looks like a leg and a knee, but someone else saw a girl with her hair flying.

What does it look like to you?

umanimous

~~from the puzzled antenas of a butterfly…

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My name is Life

I read this article and I thought it was intresting. Check it out: Where does the name Butterfly come from?

I saw this blog and I though it was just so butterfly-ish poetic… enjoy! Butterfly Notes.

Such is life. Cheers!

Not much to say today.

There was a little girl I knew but never quite met her officially. So I asked her, “What’s your name?” (keep in mind she’s about 2-3 years old) She answered, “Basketball!”

I said “Noo not that name, your real name!” So to that she answered, “Scooter.”

I gave up, and said, “Well, nice to meet you.” And she eagerly gave me a high five.

I asked her mom what her real name was and she said “Balla Skeetor.”

I laughed and said “Oh, wow. Well, she told me that her name was basketball scooter.”

The mother cried, “She what?” The poor mother shook her head, and said to herself “I do not know what goes on in that girl’s brain.”

Well, I think I’ll go buy Balla a basketball and a scooter. Maybe next time she’ll tell me her name is buttercup scissors.

Life is full of possibilities!

~~from a sleep-deprived moth butterfly…

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Not Madrasi, sista…

The other day me and my mom want to the mall for some shopping-without-money therapy and there was a watch the she wanted to fix and she was looking to see who could fix it.

We wandered into a little jewelry store and there was a short, bronze colored little lady who was from India.

Now my mom just loves international stuff (she had wanted to be a traveling agent when she was young) so she was googling the Indian culture (India). And she found out that most of our ancestors came from India (matching up weird family traditions and whatnot).

So She figured out that my great-great-great grandmother came somewhere from south India, and my grandfather too.

But in India, People form the north call the southerns “Madrasi” (and old city-tribe-something) which is usually not true.

So this eager little lady who spoke almost no English said to mom, “You come from India, no?”

And my mom said, “Yes, kind of.”

She replied, “Ah. You Madrasi?”

As to which my gave a long explanation as to how  a long time ago, the english exported people from India, like from (enter cities) to the Caribbeans and so lots of the Caribbeans have ancestors form India. The poor lady would frown while my mom talked, and smiled only when she heard a name of a Indian city. Example:

“blah blah blah, Punjab (“ah, ah yes Punjab!”)

blah blah blah Bombay (“ah yes Bombay!”)

blah blah, so I’m not Madrasi. (“Ah yes Madrasi! You from Madras!”)

Pretty soon it got much too funny for me to handle with a straight face. So I  left to pretend to look at another store while I silently bowed over laughing in front of the next store.

A couple went by and I heard the girl say “what the–what’s wrong with her? Is she dieing of a heart attack or something?” and the guy replied “Well, if she is dieing, she sure seems to be enjoying it.”

~~from the wings of a (Madrasi, no?) Butterfly…

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