Monday, April 2, 2012

A lesson two learn, Johnny 2 letter

Once, a long time ago there was a kid named Juan Cano Jr. a.k.a. Johnny 2 letter. They called him this because he only wrote 2 letters on his paper for his name. This all happen in a small town named Can, Can Missouri, “Whoosh”.
Johnny 2 letter was walking home late at night but then he notices something green in the sky.  Johnny try’s to run away but tipped “boom”.  He gets up slowly with a ripped shirt and pants he wonders what it was but then walks straight home and goes right to sleep. The next day he felt a lot of pain and his bronzes were as big as a pumpkin. He was all sore and aching with pain and scars as longer as a giant dental floss.
For the next few days he was experiencing changes like his strength, speed, and smell. When he shot a basketball you can tell also his coordination. Football, his speed and his tackles were better in soccer his kicks were so powerful the ball broke and it broke the net some say and some also say he was so strong he lifted a burning building and dipped it in the ocean. His smell was good too he was like a k9 from the police force that sniff out robbers from a mile away. Although the only thing that didn’t changed was his funniness, he was still funny as Jeff duff mans puppets because anything that come out is there mouth is halarious. Johnny 2 letter was so funny he made a cow shot out his milk out if its nose. He was awesome, he can shot a basketball from 100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 miles away and shish it but wasn’t the best at it. There was a new kid who was even better so they went at it but Johnny lost, for him not winning was like getting your dog rand over. Johnny loves to win so he as determine to win he would practice for day and days that come one shot after the other so tired and sweaty. The next day they went at it again but still lost he couldn’t find out why he looked so miserable so the new kid Logan saw and invited him for some ice cream they went and had a goodtime. Johnny didn’t care about winning he learned an important lesson that wining isn’t everything and ice cream is delicious!

Monday, December 19, 2011

Fat guy
Fat guy goes through the chimney
Fat guy eat milk and cookies
When Fat guy try to squeeze his fat butt
Through the chimney he burns his fat butt
Next time he should put out the fire then go down
Actually when you leave milk and cookies
The cookies he eats and the milk he buts on his butt
So he can put out the flames
Ouch
When fat guy fly with reindeer they actually aren’t reindeer
There mechanical robot built with motion and sorrowed sound noise
Now who feels like the dummy now?
Yah that right you
Bye, Bye
Losers

Thursday, December 15, 2011

‘Dissing’ on Santa
Christmas is Christmas
Ornaments are ornaments
Light are light
So Santa clause is just some dumb fat guy
Wasting his money on toys
What kind of idiot does that
Nope only Santa clause
And what’s up with his elves
There just small people dressed up
Just like dorks
Poor elves
They are like slaves all you need is a whip
And Santa clause saying go my pets (whip)
Finished

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Mexican poem
My mom and dads, uncles and aunt
And there mom and dads, uncles and aunt
They are great
My family is from Mexico
One thing my family has done when baby is born
The mother and father would have a bracelet
And a necklace made of gold
My family is from Mexico and we eat Mexican food
We eat enchiladas and gesso fresco and sometimes even tacos.
My mom’s brothers and sisters had kids either in Chicago or Mexico so far
And I from Chicago to I like my family the way they are
And you should to.
No
Garbage
Garbage is bad
And garbage is trash
And a lot of Trash is garbage
What ever it is its is really sticks
Garbage is a monster and says smash
It’s a hat lost at sea
Peoples walk by it
Have to try to clean
It doesn’t ever die
It’s like a mouton
Soon you’ll cry and
Later in outer space
Huston say people
We have a problem
Now garbage hates
You and so do I to so
 Bye, bye

Monday, December 5, 2011

Poems are lame
Why do we write poems there so ghetto
They are me in a huge meadow
A poem should shred itself once written
Poems die quickly and also light bulbs
I hate poems and so do you
Poems aren’t cool and so isn’t blues clues
Poems are for Barany lovers
You hate poems as much as I hate you

Friday, December 2, 2011

Who is my donkey?
My donkey hates you
When he blows its smells that’s my donkey
Who is my donkey?
My donkey where a part of my pants
Sometime he makes noise
Oh no he said he know your ugly face
Who is my donkey?
My donkey is really is my but