Junie B. Jones gets on the school bus to head to head to her first day of school, but she can’t find anywhere to sit or anyone to sit with. When the bus arrives at school, all of the kids start pushing and steeping on Junie B Jones. Lucille tells Junie B that the mean kids on the bus like to pour chocolate milk on other kid’s heads for fun. At the end of the day when it’s time to get on the bus to go home, Junie B won’t get on the bus. Instead, she went and hid in a closet. Everyone starts to look for her, but she can’t be found. Junie B. really has to go to the bathroom, and because it’s an emergency, she calls 911. Her mother, who was very upset, comes to pick her up at school. in order to help her feel more comfortable on the bus, she finds
The woods are scary. But not cause the trees. The creepy crawlies that live there seem to want to come out. Trust me it is not bugs that worry me. Not Poison ivy, although it itches. It 's not the dark. Oh no here they come! I 'm not ready to see them yet! Wow this one is big. go away I am asking nice please don 't cause trouble There are two of you? You guys are so big. Could you be anywhere else but the log right by me! Poison will not be what kills
I can 't get out of this box. The last time I looked out my window I saw meadows. Long, far, empty meadows. Living on the great plains has it 's benefits, but those meadows are ruining it for me. I keep my head away from the window. When I wake up I see the light reflect off my peeling wallpaper. I 've been sick twelve times this year and theres just something about those meadows. I remember the horizon curving from the green meadows, the ground yellow with pencil marks of green. The backdrop, dark clouds with blue outlines. The whole scene looked like a blur, maybe it was just the windows. If I squint really hard I can see the cross, her cross. The one I made for her last year. The first year of her last year. At a distance you can see the
The monologue I chose to perform is from the movie You, Me, and Dupree, by Michael Lesieur and it is delivered by the character Randolph Dupree. Prior to the point of the movie the monologue is given, Dupree is fired from his job and loses his house due to taking five days off to attending Carl’s (his best friend) wedding as the best man. Carl welcomes him to stay at his house for a few days. During one of those days, Carl is called into work the morning he is supposed to give a career day speech to his wife’s elementary school classroom. Dupree fills in for Carl and gives the speech instead. That speech is the monologue I chose and the message that Dupree tries to give is that not everyone will succeed; some people will languish, but that is okay as long as you stay ready.
Hi, um, my name’s Phil. I’m a peanut. Yep, just a peanut, not anything special like a dog with a family to love or even an almond, which is actually a nut. Nope, I’m just a little peanut trying to live as long as I can before somebody scoops me up, plops me in a bag, and takes me home to be a nice after-school snack. Now you might be wondering, How do you have thoughts, you’re just a peanut? Well, you know what? I don’t know how I have thoughts; like I said, I’m just waiting to be eaten. Bear with me here because I am here to tell you the story of how I lost my girlfriend, Pippa.
Beverly Jimenez, also known as, ‘Dr.Sissy’, stretches out of her petite, cozy office and steps into the ample operatory with dark orange walls and sticky purple chairs. Sounds of suction and the metal clanking of tools can be heard. She is asked to take a look at her patient's teeth whenever she is ready. She takes a seat on the low stool and opens her metal tools from their blue transparent package. She begins to examine the teeth of a young girl. Jimenez’ smooth chocolaty brown hair glistens under the bright white light. It is hard to hear her talk because of the baby blue surgical mask that is strapped from ear to ear covering her mouth. Once she finishes the examination, she calmly strolls back to her desk to continue her paperwork. The chatter of the young women at the desk can be heard from the waiting room. They are trying to decide which scrubs to buy as they wait for new patients to check in. The young girl who recently received a cleaning walks out of the operatory with a blue toothbrush in her hand. She stops by the brown treasure chest to pick out a small trinket and skips back to her mother.
Ahh, I need better work! Phillip Jones is so lousy! He always is using the eraser on the other end of his pencil! I am so much better than that tiny thing! It is just un...be...lievable! Why did he have to push so hard? It is...ju...st...not...ne...ed...ed.
It felt like a knife was stabbing me right in the leg. I noticed a considerable amount of other campers staring at me as I was laying on the ground in pain. “Ouch! Oh my gosh!” I held my leg as I yelled loudly. I don’t remember exactly how it felt when it first happened, but I do remember that right when I hit the solid concrete floor, I knew what had happened. Never again was I going to mess around with one of those skateboards, especially since I didn’t know exactly what I was doing. My head was spinning with confusion. I tried to stand up, except I fell right back down in even more pain. Everybody at camp was looking at me as I was crying, holding onto my leg as tight as I could.
•The skin of her hand felt warm as breath against his cracked, gray-callused palm. He readily lifted her to her feet, holding onto her hand for a moment longer than he should have, as if concerned that the wayward wind might simply gust her away straight into the air, small and winged as she was. She seemed flustered by his quick recognition, the strong retention of his memory, more so than she should have been. Most of the townsfolk had at least a peripheral idea of who she was. Given that Ponyville wasn 't an overlarge town, the slightest breath of information about her would have been relayed from one end to the other, factory-line fast and easily intercepted, or at least that 's what Able had led him to believe. He hoped this conspiratorial trade wind might be turned in his