Happy End

Many times we find ourselves destitute and looking for things to go our way. Hoping maybe to reach the pinnacle of what there is to come. Maybe it will be through renewing those musty hands into something deft and full of beauty. However, that is doubtful. More often than not we premeditate what we must do to succeed, but we lack the will to suppress our emotions and we find that our officious behaviors have ruined what could have been great. Other times things seem to be inopportune and comprised of things we wish would have never happened. In the end it seems that we will never make it, fortunately we can find solace in those that we love and that love us, those who help us make it through life.

Harry pt 1.

An inanimate object is normally so negligible that it draws no attention whatsoever, however once every blue moon there comes an object which exhilarates the very air it is incapable of breathing. This certain object is something which each person has throughout them, something that very oftentimes is mused of by the elderly; something that can be easily deleted and some find it their adversary in a daily struggle to maintain their urbane looks.
This item is a human hair, a simple item normally, but this is no normal hair. This hair has "lived" a thorough life. Once it sat upon a man of much culinary prowess. It enjoyed many a sojourn to wondrous cities and endured inclement weather atop his scalp. The young mans hair was once the precedent for all around him, but it quickly met its demise when the stress of his job overpowered him.

I Don't Even.

I once had a large cat. This cat of mine was belligerent and loved to watch the show Jeopardy to gain mad knowledge.
One day I noticed my cat leaning against a large weather worn tree looking tepidly outwards, towards the heavens.  I threw a rock at him, but he remained unmoved, an impervious fortress of fur and dandruff. As I strode towards my pet I noticed something in the sky, upon further scrutiny I realized what this object was. It was a monster made of glimmering noodles and the most savory meatballs. This was it, I had met the Flying Spaghetti Monster, the quintessence of all noodles, the overlord of pasta, and the founder of Italy.
It descended upon my backyard with the adroit of twelve gymnasts. When it neared the ground it meticulously scanned my yard looking for a plate on which to finally rest. It decided that it would just make a plate from my ivory trunk fence. The plate was a perfectly stretched canvas for it to lay upon and make its art.
While I watched the benevolent being make itself comfortable I wondered why it was here. However, my time of thought was cut short by the loud burst of noise as it addressed me, extolling my good behavior and reminding me to remain amicable to all sorts of noodles, and the like. All the while it spoke to me my cat had been feasting his eyes upon this large mass of  nutrition. Finally, he could take it no longer and halted the looking and began to feast ravenously upon it. The noodles wrapped together like snakes forming a severe grimace. It is not feasible for MY cat to eat all of that italian snack-age I thought to myself. What I did not know was that my feline was once an annual competitor of the Nathans hot dog eating contest.
He made quick work of the monster, and proceeded his feast with a long slumber, known as a food coma.

R.I.P. Mr. Trebek the kitty cat.

Blobular

There was a blob, it was bereft of hands, yet it was severely ambidextrous. It lived not the life of opulence, although, it once was seen eating tentatively with Rosie O'Donnell (A supposed family member). Many people would say that this blob often wore a guise. I would prefer to say that it simply had another blob constructing its facade. This blob was a dour blob, it always seemed to find life to be a serious matter despite being a very pliable and ridiculous looking creature. 
Whenever this blob came in contact with anything salty, or that sounded like the word salt, it would augment its unkempt self and jostle around violently. This is mostly due in part to the fact that the blob may have been a snail in a previous life.
My final thoughts on my good friend come verbatim from its mate, "bluuuuuuub."