“So those bites were really given to you buy carnivores?” Gilbert asked. He liked watching the Discovery Channel too much.
Trunk and Orson laughed at the same time once again. Through his snickering, he made an effort to speak. “I was changed into a giant chocolate clown one Halloween. It was my costume. I was very young. My older brothers had never seen me in a trance and assumed I was a real giant chocolate clown.”
“Ooh, yuk,” responded Gilbert.
“Not if you don’t know it isn’t real, it isn’t yuk.” Orson sighed but continued. “The funny thing to this day is…my brothers didn’t care once they found out it was me.”
“Very yuk,” commented Gilbert.
“Have you ever eaten a bug?” asked Orson with much curiosity, “Or a hangnail from your finger? You’ve seen kids eat their own dried nasal mucus.”
“Yes, boogers” answered Gilbert, grimacing.
“Well many people consider that to be worse,” added Trunk. “Double yuk,” Gilbert squirmed his displeasure of the subject presented.
“So you don’t think Parrot’s eating cooked fowl carnivorous?” Trunk raised an eyebrow.
“Well, yes as do us eating animals.” Gilbert wondered why
Trunk specifically mentioned a Parrot.
“Well if it tastes like chocolate, it must be chocolate, right?” Orson offered.
“And why does Trunk and the Pan workers find it so funny?” Gilbert guessed he was too young to get the meaning but pressed on for more. Then he recalled the clown vision of Orson’s past.
Gilbert’s face ignited with tearful amusement as he caught sight of the projected picture Orson created of a giant size clown, and at last, what everyone laughed about. Orson’s brothers turned themselves into giant chocolate bars. As the image became larger in front of Gilbert, the more his belly ached from laughing so hard. Two gian...
... middle of paper ...
...Number Five again. Nor the pungent scent of his father after he’d sneaked out to smoke a cigar, knowing they were bad for him. Asher’s sharp comments would also be welcomed. How could he have forgotten Asher, what became of him? He contemplated.
“Halloo, chicken, halloo,” cackled Asher from a limb just out of reach. “I can smell you from over here.” The words sounded just like Asher, without imitating anyone.
Gilbert jumped off the carpet. Overjoyed. He ignored the surroundings used by Trunk to hide new young Wizards and apparently train them for their own protection. The oddity of the place slightly registered in Gilbert’s mind. He slid into the Safe House courtyard and there was Asher, one left leg out eager for his best friend’s arm. With a hop off the perch, he shimmied up the arm to Gilbert’s shoulder to nestle into his chin.
“Nice to see you, my friend, Asher.”
He starts by giving a lot of personal examples (Pizza shop example), then talks about other people who try it (The stages of beginning to dumpster dive), and explains how dumpster diving is a lot better than the more accepted picking up of cans (comparison to a wino). He then delves into the ethics behind dumpster diving (looking at prescription bottles and such), and then if one, presumably the reader, wanted to try it how they would do so (pole with hook on it). He ends with some deep insights into dumpster diving and his way of life. I think that the way he organizes his essay, and his overall tone, are to convince the reader that dumpster diving is not as bad as everyone things, and to make people actually interested in trying it. He first
The author, Lars Eighner explains in his informative narrative, “On Dumpster Diving” the lifestyle of living out of a dumpster. Eighner describes the necessary steps to effectively scavenge through dumpsters based on his own anecdotes as he began dumpster diving a year before he became homeless. The lessons he learned from being a dumpster diver was in being complacent to only grab what he needs and not what he wants, because in the end all those things will go to waste. Eighner shares his ideas mainly towards two direct audiences. One of them is directed to people who are dumpster divers themselves, and the other, to individuals who are unaware of how much trash we throw away and waste. However, the author does more than direct how much trash
Didion and Eighner have different styles of writing, but they both created writings with an instructional component. In both pieces of literature, they guide the audience like a mother to child, guiding us step by step in order to perfect the outcome. Joan Didion’s “On Keeping a Notebook” teaches the reader on how to keep note of the past through a notebook. “On Dumpster Diving” written by Lars Eighner, teaches the reader how to successfully dumpster dive and survive. However, Eighner’s piece included many details, whereas Didion’s ideas used examples by flowing from one top to another. It could also be said that Lars Eighner’s piece creates a more thorough analysis on how to dumpster dive. In spite of the fact that the pieces of literature
After he uncovers Teddy’s paper world, the uncle reacts in a manner of ignorance and derision, mocking him for his decision to occupy himself with paper dolls. The uncle dubs Teddy as a “great big lummox … playing with paper dolls”, insulting Teddy for his hobbies with a tone of amusement and hysteria. In spite of Teddy’s agitation, the uncle prefers to make a mockery out of Teddy rather than accepting his unique hobbies, suggesting the uncle’s belief that Teddy’s activities are unfitting of someone of his age. In addition, Teddy’s uncle further aggravates Teddy by continuously ridiculing him, leading him to eventually destroy his treasured paper world. Despite Teddy’s attempts at validating the reality of his paper dolls, the uncle “burst into laughter, his cheeks the colour of a tomato.” Teddy’s uncle persistence in mocking Teddy implies his disapproval of Teddy’s world, believing that his world is ludicrous and absurd for someone of his age to be occupied with. The sustained laughter of Teddy’s uncle is explicit and deliberate, intended to warn Teddy against his immature hobby, an evident symbol of society’s expectation of
When he arrived at the home the servant who took his hoarse and directed him to the room that Mr. Usher was in greeted him. Inside the house was also very ornate, but it to had also been left alone for to long. The entire house had a gloomy atmosphere that would put a chill down most people’s spines. When he entered the room his friend was staying in he was warmly welcomed. He could not believe the changes that his dear childhood friend had endured.
The men continue to discuss things, but I couldn’t hear them. Instead, I listened to Scout, who was talking to Walter Cunningham. She reminds me of my own children in some ways. Hearing her childish voice makes me miss my family even more, and it reminds me of my loneliness.
‘Feast of the Clowns, Burgers Park’ the quite ominous pamphlet read as I was approaching a seemingly empty patch of green and I couldn’t help but retrieve sinister images of gluttonous clowns. Before I could enter the barricaded plot of public green, I was met by three casually dressed police officers, one greeting me with a smiley pat-down accompanied by a dry joke about myself carrying a gun to which I replied with a hissing laugh and a stomach full of uncertainty: the idea of clowns
In the book, Dead End in Norvelt, Jack Gantos uses humor to engage the reader. Jack Gantos turned his life story into a book. He added humor because he knew that some readers would find the book more interesting with humorous text in it. Jack uses many humorous texts in his book. Three examples are, Jack saving a deer by farting, Jack’s reaction to Miss Volker cooking her hands, and Mr. Spizz chasing the Hell’s Angels on a tricycle.
Francis stopped just above the three-year-old brunette boy as his lips trembled and he certainly felt bad for him since it was obvious the younger boy wanted to cry but Francis wanted to be victorious in the game. The older boy pointed his sideways L at Theodore and just as he was about to say the words ‘Bang, bang’ Francis heard a loud feminine screaming coming his way which was quickly getting louder. Francis quickly turned around and what he saw made his blue eyes become as round as stones. The blond knew very well how much Elizabeth loved to play games and it showed in her appearance and what she held in her
Hester and William Tavener have been happly married for many years. One day, they have a disagreement about letting their boys go to the circus, Hester asked William if the boys can go to the circus. William worked the days all summer and the boys and Hester want’s to go to the circus. Their boys have never been to a circus before so Hester thinks it would be a great idea to give them a break for a little while and let them go to the circus. Hester don’t want the boys to grow up as greenhorns Hester and William grew up differently then how the boys are now. Hester paused a moment and William folded up his farm paper he was reading with no remark. William is a quiet man
lighten the mood and accentuate the comedic theme of the story through his creation of
He does this by painting several characters in greater detail than would be accomplished with drama alone. Also affected by this utilization of humor is the development of central themes and their presentation to the audience. Finally, his humor lets us gain a glimpse into the mind of the great playwright that would not be possible
Charlie smirked, walking back out into the main part of the room to start sorting through their supplies. Food and things for the kitchen in one pile, women’s clothing in another, men’s clothes...Charlie grabbed the shirt lying on top and picked it up. Her eyes closed as she brought it to her nose, inhaling the combined scents of fire, tobacco, sweat, and alcohol. Her mind conjured up a tall man, his face hidden in the
Alex thought of the man who had been his only relation for as long as he could remember. He had never known his own parents. They had both died in another accident, this one a plane crash, a few weeks after he had been born. He had been brought up by his father's brother (never "uncle"- Ian Rider had hated that word) and had spent fourteen years in the same terraced house in Chelsea, London, between the King's Road and the river. The two of them had always been close. Alex remembered the vacations they'd taken together, the many sports they'd played, the movies they'd seen. They hadn't just been relations, they'd been friends. It was almost impossible to imagine that he would never again see the man, hear his laughter, or twist his arm to get help with his science
Mr. Little didn’t flinch. “Watch your step, Burris. I’d soon’s kill you as look at you. Now go home.” While I didn’t agree with his threat, his courage inspired me. I repeated it, telling Mr. Ewell to go home or the principal would be called. Though I didn’t think that it would work (he didn’t seem like the kind of boy to be scared of a principal), it did. He snorted once more and fled from the room.