Garbology
Students were tasked with bringing in 5 items of garbage that said something about who they are. They then traded garbage and created a story for someone else's garbage.
By Katelyn Kocher One hell of a party! I woke up little after noon on Saturday. My head was pounding along to the sounds of the birds chirping, the whole room tilted up and down resembling the sights you experiences on a seesaw. As I neared the kitchen I picked up red solo cup after red solo cup until I had no more space in my arms to hold the circular plastic. As I put the cups on the counter I came to the conclusions that I needed to find a cure for the after effects I was feeling. I faintly remembered my mother drinking ice coffee to cure her headaches. So I when to the fridge and pulled out the last Frappuccino. When I finished off the glass bottle I rinsed it out and threw it away. I than retired to my couch where I sat in front of the TV hoping to spend the rest of the day sleeping and watching the rest of the season of Ellen. I got halfway through episode 6 when my doorbell rang. They high pitch dingdong sent excoriating bolts of pain through the back of head. I opened the door the find by brother waiting happily on the porch. He invited himself in. My brother Jared took three steps into my living room a said, “What the hell happened in here?” I burped then replied, “One hell of a party!” “You don’t drink,” jared said in a condescending tone. It was then and there when I heard those twisted words come out of my brothers mouth that I sat and relived the events that took place the night before. After all he was right, I don't drink. Friday was supposed to entail a normal night, I was just promoted at caterpillar and wanted to celebrate with some friends. When I got around to inviting people the whole department decided to come. They brought gifts and balloons, The only thing is you can't hang out with a bunch of constructions workers and not drink. I wasn't able to open and look through 4 gifts before the guys, from the office, were asking for more ping pong balls to play murderball, They brought me smashed ball after smashed ball. I just threw them away hoping that they would find more. When murderball become boring the guys begged to start new drinking games. I decided to join them. Somehow in the mix up of the night balloons were burst and cardboard boxes from my gifts were demolished. I tried to pick them up and put them in the trash bin when I could but entertaining my guest became my number one priority over cleaning up after my guest. By four o'clock in the morning every had left. I started to retire to bed when I saw something. It was my red ribbon from high school. My pledge to be drug and alcohol free. After seeing this i was so disappoint in the mistakes i made moments before than i picked it up and trought it away out of frustration. After than I returned to bed and woke up, hungover. But man it was still on hell of a party. |
By Braden Fouts
Phil the gambler Phil was a gambler and he had a very bad habit of not being able to stop. In the year 2011, Phil was gambling with dice and a few friends. One of his friends bet that he would not roll 3 matching numbers. Phil was determined so he bet $300 that he would. Phil grabbed his lucky forest dice and started to shake them in his hands. He threw the dice across the table and watched them bounce around. One dice landed on three, and another, and the last one…… 2. Phil picked up the dice and threw them across the room yelling, “These are the worst dice ever!”, and then left the room. Phil decided to go to star bucks after his loss to calm down. He ordered 2 cups of coffee. When the coffee was ready the employees forgot to give him a straw so Phil demanded that he would receive one immediately. The employee apologized and handed him a green straw. Phil yelled at everyone in the building one last time before leaving and throwing his drink in the trash. Phil decided that his day could not get any worse so he felt that the only thing he could do was get some more money from the bank and continue to gamble. On the way to the bank Phil wanted to eat a breakfast bar. He tried to unwrap it but he was unable to. He got mad and threw it out his window and then all of a sudden heard a police siren. An officer pulled Phil over and wrote him a citation for littering. The officer required Phil to sign the citation, but he did not have a pen. The officer handed Phil a Pencil so he could sign it, Phil was so mad that he threw the pencil out his window as well. When Phil arrived at the bank he saw an ad for a college called Mizzou. He took a long break to rethink what he has spent his life doing end decided that it was time for him to go to college. Phil spent all of the gambling money he had left to go to college and earn a bachelors degree. To this day Phil has never gambled again. By Abby Kammeyer Garbology I glare at the things I’ve dragged out from under my bed with a sneer. I toss my black hair over my shoulder and play with my lip ring as I study my childhood delights, picking up the “Fun Dip” wrapper from the pile. Mystery flavored? Who ever thought these were good? They were tasteless sticks dipped in colored sugar. I toss the wrapper into my black wastebasket where it settles onto a pile of other old junk and turn back to look at the remaining items. I pick up the doll next, and hold her by the hair to mover her around to look at the logo on the plastic back of her dress. It looks like a Happy Meal toy from McDonald’s. I grab her legs and bend them a bit to test the strength of the plastic. It seems pretty breakable, but breaking her legs off seemed a little too morbid for me, so I’m just going to toss this into the bin also. I reach out and smooth a piece of paper over my leg, reading my name scrawled in a little kid’s script. I remember this worksheet. It was the first homework assignment I didn’t do, and I hid it before mom could’ve seen it in my folder. This would’ve been the first of thousands of sheets that I said were done but in actuality were shoved somewhere to never be seen again. I crumple it back up and toss it towards the basket. Swish. The shiny aluminum of the deflated balloon crinkles against my hand as I put in my palm. Why did I get this? Was it my birthday? I smack it a few times to see if it will expand anymore. The only thing that accomplishes is a loud smacking and crinkling noise. Load of good that did for me. I feel around the lump in the center and wonder how it works. I remember wondering about things like this when I was younger, and I threw those ideas out of my mind when I realized I was too stupid to figure anything out. I crumple it up angrily and pitch that as well, and it lands with a soft crunch against the worksheet. The last thing in front of me is a lime green marker. This color makes me want to hurl. I take the cap off and draw on the back of my hand to see if any ink is left. There is, and I draw a frowny face by my thumb. The green glows sickly against my pale skin, and I wipe it off soon after drawing it. I cap the pen and hold it up to eye level. I’m transported back to a time where I would wear colors and had bright colors through my hair. Now it’s all black. I toss it and it lands with a dejected “tink” as it hits the side of the metal can. Another part of my childhood gone, and now on to digging through my closet. |