How I look in the mirror
How I look in pictures
- violins I: we're the superstars fuck everyone else its all about us
- violins II: why do we always get the boring parts
- flutes: we're so lonely
- piccolo: lol fk your ears
- french horns: and im not even french hONHONHON BAGUETTE
- oboes: IM SORRY I TUNED BEFORE I SWEar
- violas: evERYONE ALWAYS FKUCING FRORGETS ABOUT US
- trumpets: wats 'p'
- trombones: wats quiet
- cellos: im either boring af or exciting af and there is no in between
- bassoons: im so posh but i really just honk like a truck
- clarinet: *squeaks*
- timpani: EVERYONE LOVES ME BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM
- bass clarinet: lol where am i
- tuba: *waits for a wagner piece to do something exciting*
- harp: im just a more sophisticated piano
- piano: FUCK YOU HARP I GET CONCERTOS WRITTEN FOR ME SCREW EVERYTHING WHO NEEDS AN ORCHESTRA WHEN YOU CAN PLAY EVERYTHING ON ME IM THE STAR OF EVERYTIHNG
- english horn: im literally only useful for dvorak's 9th like what am even i doing here
- basses: semibreves, tied to a semibreve, tied to a minim, tied to a crotchet, oh wait a quaver wow exciting ok back to semibreves
- cornets: trumpet wannabe
- cymbals: BOOM CRASH CRASH CRASH CRASH IM SRO HAPYP CRASH CRAHS
- saxophones: i never get a good part until a jazzy piece is performed which is never
- xylophones: am i meant to be here?
- bass drum: MY TIME TO SHINE FUCK YOU ALL
There’s a dollar in my g string
THAT IS YOUR D STRING. G IS ALL THE WAY ON MY LEFT.
EXCUSE ME you uncultured swine. That IS my G string. LEFT TO RIGHT IT’S: C G D A ON A CELLO. And if you notice the dollar is wonderfully tucked in my G STRING.
DO NOT DOUBT MY SIX YEARS OF EXPERIENCE.
THEY’RE NOT CALLED VIOLINISTS THEY’RE CALLED CELLISTS
IT,WAS THE VIOLINIST THAT THOUGHT IT WAS THE WRONG STRING JESUS CHRIST
This is just one massive train wreck
String players can be a bit high-strung.
y’all need to cellout
We all need to calm down before this gets violin-t
thank you for your contribution
THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Another original creepy story, and like most stories that have been floating around the internet for a while, I was unable to find the original author.
One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until after school. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.
His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.
He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.
She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said “No.” He was devastated.
When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said “No.” It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.
The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, “Sorry, no.” When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said “No.” He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.
Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when suddenly he got hit by a car. He was dead with the picture in his hand.
The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. Suddenly he saw the picture and picked it up.
He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.
my brother left his drink at taco bell and was like “where’s my baja blast?” and my sister just quietly whispers “in the baja past”