Hot Dogs

We read a chrismas story, read some quotes, and did r and e's!

Argument Paragraph Edited even more!

I think there should not be year round school. There should not be year round school because students are going to not have any relaxing and they need summer break. Summer break gives the mind a break and they have something to look forward too. It helps us feel relaxed. Also, when students go to school all year long, it feels like going to school until we are older, and we wouldn't be very entergetic. Also, year round schools have no more achivement then regular, yet there's more school, so it's between having a 3 month vacation or not, and we need the vacation. We want a break sometimes, and it won't make a difference if we change to year round. And, everyone needs time with their family, to go on vacation, and go to camp with their friends. One expert, Dr. Peter Scales, says, “The biggest plus of camp is that camps help young people discover and explore their talents, interests, and values. Most schools don’t satisfy all these needs. Kids who have these kinds of camp experiences end up being healthier and have fewer problems.” If we have year round school, we won't be able to go on long vacations and things that we need to do. And it costs a lot for year round schooling.For example, a high school in Arizona had a cost increase of $157,000 when they switched to year-round schooling. That cost might be trouble to some schools for this cost. In another article, it said the recent Massachusetts plan, which increased school time by 30 percent in its first year, required an additional 20 percent in base funding, or an average of $1,300 extra per student. I think the money could be better spent and have more benefits. ALso, since 1980, 95 percent of schools that tried the year-round schedule changed back to a traditional calendar. It is certain year round schooling does not help, so why should we change the traditional calendar? An article also says another challege is persuading parents who see no real benefit for their own children for giving up the vacation schedule they have come to expect. And in another it said In traditional settings, teachers are on 12 month contracts, work for nine months, and receive their salary over a 12 month period. Thus teachers often pursue other employment, generally in the summer and about 30 percent of teachers take summer jobs to supplement their incomes, and try and get a bigger wage than their teaching wage. Consequently, it may be difficult to recruit and retain teachers in a year round school setting. This would be hard for teachers. What's wrong with traditional? I do not think their should be year round school.

5 min write 3

Officer Huckleberry knocked on the door. He was at a cabin on the top of the hill, where a suspect lied. Nothing was on the hill, except for grass. No path, nothing. Not even a tree. A young teen opened the door. “Hey.” He said. “I’m George.” “Did you steal a TV from Mr. Sygorg?” Officer Huckleberry asked. “Uh, no, I have one, but that’s not the one. I ‘va had it and been using it for years.” “You’re lying.” Answered Officer Huckleberry. WHY DOES OFFICER HUCKLEBERRY SUSPECT GEORGE?

Officer Huckleberry picked up the phone. “Hi, this is Mr. Huckleberry. You are arrested under the law.” “Kids.” He said. Don’t joke around. How did he know they were kids?

Have nice day I am just typing and having fun and yea.SO I;m just typing you get ready to read this over and oever.

Argumaent Paragraph edited

I think there should not be year round school. There should not be year round school because students are going to not have any relaxing and they need summer break. Summer break gives the mind a break and they have something to look forward too. It helps us feel relaxed. Also, when students go to school all year long, it feels like going to school until we are older, and we wouldn't be very entergetic. Also, year round schools have no more achivement then regular, yet there's more school, so it's between having a 3 month vacation or not, and we need the vacation. We want a break sometimes, and it won't make a difference if we change to year round. And, everyone needs time with their family, to go on vacation, and go to camp with their friends. One expert, Dr. Peter Scales, says, “The biggest plus of camp is that camps help young people discover and explore their talents, interests, and values. Most schools don’t satisfy all these needs. Kids who have these kinds of camp experiences end up being healthier and have fewer problems.” If we have year round school, we won't be able to go on long vacations and things that we need to do. And it costs a lot for year round schooling.For example, a high school in Arizona had a cost increase of $157,000 when they switched to year-round schooling. That cost might be trouble to some schools for this cost. I think the money could be better spent and have more benefits. ALso, since 1980, 95 percent of schools that tried the year-round schedule changed back to a traditional calendar. It is certain year round schooling does not help, so why should we change the traditional calendar?

Packet

We did part of a packet, and read a story so

5 min writ 2

If I could make any item on animal jam I would make an item for a den, I would make a Phantom Robot. It would follow you around your den and you can control it to go after you, everyone, the people in your den, or your friends in your den. If it touched you or someone it would zap you and you would turn purple and black for ten seconds. It could guard your den like that. And you can make a boundary for where it can go in it’s settings!

Argument Paragraph

I think there should not be year round school. There should not be year round school because students are going to not have any relaxing and they need summer break. Summer break gives the mind a break and they have soemthing to look forward too. It helps us feel relaxed. Also, when students go to school all year long, it feels like going to school until they are older, and we wouldn't be very entergetic. Also, year round schools have no more achivement then regular, yet there's more schools. We want a break sometimes, and it won't make a difference if we change to year round. I think there should not be year round schools.

5 min writ 1

Officer Huckleberry and his friend, William, walked up the stairs to Mr. Mister’s house, passing a bright yellow car in the garage, next to a blue one, to ask Mr. Mister about a robbery. It was a brick one, suburban style. William knocked on the door, and rang the knocked on the door and waited. Nothing, Officer Huckleberry walked around to the back. Nothing. He called Mr. Mister. Nothing. “Maybe he’s not here.” William asked. “He’s here.” Answered Officer Huckleberry. HOW DID OFFICER HUCKLEBERRY KNOW THAT?

            Officer huckleberry walked up the path to Andy Watson’s house. He was investing gating his disappearence. He knocked on the door. Nothing. He jiggled the handle to the door. The door opened. He walked in. Nothing was destroyed. He searched for something. Anything. Nothing. He found a crumpled up piece of paper with something on it. There was H-O then a shark. “He’s somewhere near the _______”

THE WHAT?

Grapes

We worked on our DRN's!

Wheat

We did a page of stuff

Banana

We did a packet.

Poem

I’m thankful for friends, My care, My bear, I’m thankful for my gems. A pet, Better yet, I’m thankful for my stuff, And what’s chewed, Called food, I’m thankful for love. My clothes, I’ve chose, I’m thankful for Earth, The trees, The seas, But what has most worth, My family, Family, And my teddy bear’s love. His fluff, Enough. That reaches above. \ I’m thankful for my things. I’m thankful for my clothes. I’m thankful for my five senses. including my nose. I’m grateful for my health, And Friends who do things for me. I’m thankful for the Earth, The land, the sky, and the sea. I’m thankful for animals, Food, especially cheese. I’m thankful for people, Who help me with my needs. But most of all, I’m thankful For my family who gives me care. And love, and happiness, And my buddy Teddy Bear. And there are many more things I’m thankful for you see. But these are things I’m most thankful for Because they are there for me.

Final Piece

“Ark! Ow!” I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright shells and grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. Plus, the sand was burning hot. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach, searching for food scraps and crabs. He quickly dove down into the sea, and stuck his beak in. Awesome! I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was as old as George Washington, like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

Fruit SNacks

I am working onpivot

Cheesy Popcorn

I worked on pivvot

Jolly Ranchers

“Oooooooooooo! The house with the red eyes!” I pointed to the next house, where the long, dark window had big red and white eyes to my friend, Adam, and my brother Drew. The house had a long window in their porch showed, big, evil, glaring eyes. I remembered it from last year and the year before and the year before. “Hey, I don’t remember that from last year!” On the door, a projection of Darth Vader and some storm troopers came up and shut a projected wooden door, covered with projected boards. We stepped on the porch, as Darth Vader and his troops repeated coming up and shutting the door. “Hi there!” My heart beat loudly. A young man was sitting with a kid in his lap with a red ladybug costume on as he looked at us and our costumes under our squeaky raincoats and wet boots, I hadn’t seen him, and he gave me a good shake. “Trick or treat!” we shouted. “Here you go!” He gave us a good, decent handful and slapped it in our bags. “How did you put the eyes and Darth Vader?” I asked. “Bluetooth. I have this thing here I can control whether it’s Star Wars or Monsters Inc. It’s a projection. So are the eyes. He pointed at the glaring eyes, which moved around, trying to look for kids. See?” He did the star wars one. “Can we see Monsters Inc?” Adam asked. “Sure.” The man said. He was very kind about it. A big, blue monster came on the door and made a scary face and shut the same door as Darth Vader. “Wow! That’s cool! Thanks! Happy Halloween!” We shouted. “Your welcome! Happy Halloween!” We hopped of the wet porch and ran to the next house, shouting more thank you’s.

CHicken

pivot

Pineapple

Media Ceneter!

Corn

working on pivot pivot

cANDY

i AM WORKING ON PIVOT

PIzza

“Ack! Ow! Ow again!” I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright shells and grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. Plus, the sand was burning hot. The sand must be 2999 degrees Fahrenheit! (Sand melts at 3000 degrees.) I should have brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach, searching for food scraps and crabs. He quickly dove down into the sea, and stuck his beak in. Awesome! I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was as old as George Washington, like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

Yogurt

“Ack! Ow! Ow again!” I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright shells and grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. Plus, the sand was burning hot. The sand must be 2999 degrees Fahrenheit! (Sand melts at 3000 degrees.) I should have brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach, searching for food scraps and crabs. He quickly dove down into the sea, and stuck his beak in. Awesome! I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others, like it had turned camouflage. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

Cookies

“Ack! Ow! Ow again!” I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright shells and grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. Plus, the sand was burning hot. The sand must be 2999 degrees Fahrenheit! (Sand melts at 3000 degrees.) I should have brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach, searching for food scraps and crabs. He quickly dove down into the sea, and stuck his beak in. Awesome! I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

Buttered Bread

I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright, shiny, white shells and dark, grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. I should of brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the wavy, rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry sandy seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot, dry, rocky, shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

Bread toasted equals toast

I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright, shiny, white shells and dark, grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. I should of brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the wavy, rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry sandy seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the rocky, shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at all the shells. One by one, we immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida, despite the freezing coldness of the water. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something, like a box, or plank. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. I stared at the soaked wood thing, sitting in my muddy hand. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “Look what I found! It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above; brightly reflecting on the beautiful blue waves, I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

What is the most important message you heard from Joey Nowak during our video call?

I learned that being a sports writer is awesome, and that you can be judgemental.

Posty Toasty

I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright, shiny, white shells and dark, grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. I should of brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the wavy, rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry sandy seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot, dry, rocky, shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. Nothing exciting. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s pirate shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the fishy waves of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the shiny, beautiful blue waves. I will never, ever, ever, forget this amazing day.

My next post

I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, rocks. The bright, shiny, white shells and dark, grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt. I should of brought flip flops I thought as I stumbled along. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with a bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. The hot air smelled salty and fresh, but there was a fishy smell, too. There was a seagull who circled about like he was the shining star of the beach. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the wavy, rippled, blue water, passing dark, sandy, driftwood and dry sandy seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot, dry, rocky, shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a shiny, straight orange stripe on this rough shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold wave washed over them with tiny runaway ripples, and the shell blended in with the others. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my cousin and brother, who had also, taken a brisk moment to look around at the shiny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand into the cold, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, even before I had my first 60 seconds in the Atlantic, I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a cold, startling, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire sticky body, and sat on the rocky, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. Litter, I thought. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. Litter isn’t blocks of wood. It must be part of something. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy car. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the old, wooden back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, brown wooden cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s dark brown pirate wooden shipwreck with millions of dollars of golden rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately got up and raced to Jake, who was already examining the bottom of the mucky Atlantic Ocean, and looked at me as I raced over to him. “It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, pink towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the scratchy bottom of the fishy waves of the Atlantic Ocean, with the bright yellow sun above, brightly reflecting on the shiny, beautiful blue waves.

My post for today

I immediately rushed, quickly staggering over the sandy, hard, bumpy, rough, scratchy, shiny, lumpy rocks. The bright, cool, shiny, white shells and dark, rough, pointy, light, grainy rocks were sharp or just simply, they hurt a lot. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, light blue, shiny, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with an extremely shiny and bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my extremely optimistic brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, bright, sandy, beautiful white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the shiny, wavy, fishy, rippled, blue, beautiful water, passing dark, sandy, ripped, wet driftwood and dry, green, sandy, shiny, scratched seaweed. I was like a breeze, running on the hot, soft, fresh, dry, rocky, shell covered beach. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, shiny, rough, sandy, cool orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or bright, shiny, sandy, scratchy shells, even. Whoa, I thought immediately. These are really cool. There was a bright, shiny, straight orange stripe on this bright, wet, scratchy, shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold, dark, splashing, sandy wave washed over them with little, tiny, wavy, affectionate, shiny, runaway ripples. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my excited, jumpy black haired cousin and ready brother, who had also, taken a quick, brisk, immediate moment to look around at the shiny, bright, scratchy, sunny shells. We immediately ran off the soft sand and dark, rough, sparkling, pointy rock covered beach into the blue, cold, wavy, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold, blue, shiny little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly I felt something hard and slippery on my sticky right foot, and I slipped. I fell with a little, cold, sparkling, startling, shiny, small, splash, and quickly dunked my whole entire body, and sat on the rocky, sharp, dark, wet, fishy, rough, lumpy, bumpy, ocean floor, four feet from the sandy, toasty, dry, scratched up, lumpy, rocky, shell covered shore of the beach.“Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, whoa, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown black wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky, wet, cold bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sunken to the bottom and was stuck there since the time of the pirates. It wasn’t like an awesome shiny, new hot wheels toy racecar. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the shiny, old, wooden, soaked back of the truck, the storage part, and was a dark, wet, brown wood cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird and strange condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s dark brown pirate wooden shipwreck with millions of dollars of golden 1200s rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately ran to Jake, who was already examining the freezing bottom of the cold, giant, wavy Atlantic Ocean. “It’s an awesome, old, dark, soaked, sandy toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely, taking a quick, immediate, brisk moment to flash an affectionate look. And we put it on a bright, cheerful, pink, dry, sandy towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the cold, lumpy, rocky, bumpy, rough, scratchy, sharp bottom of the shiny, fishy, rough, wavy, runaway waves of the beautiful, shiny, fishy, wavy, bumpy, lumpy, rough, sharp Atlantic Ocean, with the dazzling, warm, bright yellow sun above, brightly reflection on the shiny, beautiful, blue, wavy, bumpy, rippled white, runaway waves.

My other post

The time I found a toy truck in the sand I rushed, quickely staggering over the sandy, hard, rough, scratchy rocks. The bright, cool, shiny, white shells and dark and light rocks were sharp, or just simply, they sharply hurt a lot. But way ahead, I could see the fresh, light blue, shiny, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with an extremely shiny and bright reflection of the hot, bright, orange sun. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my extremely optimistic brother, Drew, over the soft, fresh, bright, sandy white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the water. But when I saw all the dazzling, bright, shiny, rough, sandy orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or bright sandy shells, even. Woah, I thought. These are really cool. There was an orange stripe on this bright, wet, scratchy, shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold, dark, splashing, sandy wave washed over them. I quickly lost concentration, and went after my excited, jumpy cousin and ready brother, who had also, taken a quick, brisk, immediate moment to look. We immediately ran off the soft sand and dark, rough, sparkling, pointy rock covered beach into the blue, cold, wavy, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash, spreading tiny sparkling ripples through the water. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly I felt something hard and slippery on my right foot, and I slipped. “Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, WOAH, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark, brown black wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard like a hard, slappy yank in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky, wet, cold bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old, and it was soaked like it had sanken to the bottom and was stuck there since the pirates. It wasn’t like an awesome shiny, new hot wheels toy racecar. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the back of the truck, the storage part, was a dark, wet, wood cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird and strange condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s dark brown pirate wooden shipwreck with millions of dollars of golden 1200s rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I immediately ran to Jake, who was already examining the freezing bottom of the cold, giant, wavy Atlantic Ocean. “It’s an awesome toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered politely. And we put it on a pink, dry, sandy, towel, and immediately forgot about it as we splashed into the cold and rocky bottom of the shiny, fishy, rough Atlantic Ocean, with the dazzling, warm, bright yellow sun above

My write for today

The time I found a toy truck in the sand I rushed, staggering over the sandy, hard, scratchy rocks. The bright and cool shells and dark and light rocks were sharp, or just simply, they sharply hurt a lot. But ahead, I could see the fresh, light blue, shiny, salty, cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean. I ran quickly without a minute to spare after my Californian cousin Jake and my optimistic brother, Drew, over the fresh, bright, white sand. I ran, in an attempt to jump into the water. But when I saw all the orange and white shells… I had never seen orange and white shells. Or shells, even. Woah, I thought. These are cool. There was an orange stripe on this shiny one, then… “Splash!” A small, cold, dark wave washed over them. I lost concentration, and went after my excited, jumpy cousin and ready brother, who had also token a quick, brisk moment to look. We immediately ran off the sandy and rocky beach into the blue, cold, wavy, sparkling waters of Florida. I immediately jumped in with a cold little splash. It felt very cold. “This feels very cold!” I exclaimed. Suddenly I felt something hard and slippery on my right foot, and I slipped. “Huh? Owe! What the? Hey, WOAH, huh? Oh, look!” I exclaimed. I looked down. There was a dark wood corner, of a small or giant block or wood or something. I was going to just go somewhere else, but then I stopped. Maybe it’s something cool, I thought to myself as I bent down again. I slightly gave a tug on it, slightly hard in an attempt to pull it out of the rocky, wet, cold bottom. It came out very easily. “What the?” I slipped and fell back a bit in the salty bottom. “Hey, it’s a… toy truck?” It looked very old. It wasn’t like a shiny, new hot wheels toy racecar. It was like a dull cargo truck, and the back of the truck, the storage part, was a dark, wet, wood cube. It had dark, black, plastic wheels jammed with lots of wet sand, and the driver’s part was also dark, black, wet plastic. It was in such weird and strange condition I didn’t even recognize it to be an old toy truck at first. It wasn’t a 1200s wooden shipwreck with millions of dollars of rusty pirate treasure, but… “Hey look what I found!” I ran to Jake, who was already examining the freezing bottom of the cold, giant, wavy Atlantic Ocean. “It’s a toy truck!” “Cool!” he answered. And we put it on a pink, dry, sandy, towel, and forgot about it as we splashed into the cold and rocky bottom of the shiny, fishy, Atlantic Ocean.

Hello!