The Twit

Mr Twit was a twit. born a twit and now at age of sixty, he was a bigger twit than ever. he's a hairy man. the hair on his face didnt grow smooth ana matted.it grew in spikes that stuck out straight like the bristles of a nailbrush.

how ofen did Mr Twit wash this bristly nailbrushy face of his?

NEVER.

he hadnt washed it for years.

dirty beards. hundreds of bits of old breakfasts and lunchs,supper sticky, sticking to the hair around his face.

because of this,Mr Twit never when really hungry. by sticking out his tongue and curling it sideways to explore the hairy jungle around his mouth,he was always able to find a tasty morsel here and there to nibble on.

Mr Twit. a foul and smelly old man.

Mrs Twit was no matter than her husband.

she did not have a hairy face. it was a pity that she didnt because that at any rate would haven hidden some fo her fearful ugliness.

she wasnt born ugly. she'd had quite a nice face when she was young.the ugliness had grown upon her year by year as she grow older.why?

if a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. and when that person has ugly thoughts everyday,every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it.

Glass eyes. you can play a lot of tricks with a glass eye because you can take it out and pop it back again any time you like. you can bet your life Mrs Twit knew all the tricks!

Mr Twit and Mrs Twit plot nasty tricks that they could play on each other everyday.

(:

walking around in town yesterday.
i cannot believe it.
right after my exams i went town.):
will be going again later to celebrate stacy's birthday.(:

have fun everyone because monday onwards will be hell. heez

*smile like you mean it*