Post by dale on Oct 5, 2009 8:16:48 GMT -6
Sun is shining and you’re feeling fine and the birds are singing in the trees.
Dale squinted his large grey orb’s with indignation up at the bright sunlight, as it streamed through the sheaf of leaves atop the offshoot of branches above his head. Slouching against the trunk of a large oak tree, he silently cursed himself for forgetting his sunglasses.
Who knew the day would turn out this sunny?
Rivers Edge was practically deserted. Though Dale wasn’t sure if it was always like this, or if it was simply because it was a Sunday afternoon. It was almost as if no one cared about this little place. He sat, quite contently as a light breeze blew through his jet-black locks of hair, listening to the shrill shreaks of gulls, and the quack of nearby ducks. Dale squinted as he glanced up into the sky, watching as several white clouds drifted by, casting their shadow’s upon the sandy surface below. He wasn’t sure what to make out of them; shape’s that was. As he sat and stared into the sky, trying to discern the patterns, he thought to himself that a few of them looked a little like marshmallow puffs.
He hadn’t been planning on coming out here, at first. What he had wanted to do was have a duvet day. He had just wanted to lay in bed all day, all cosy and warm like a little bug in a rug. Sure it wasn’t very productive, but life wasn’t always about being productive was it?
There was a girlish shriek to the left of him, towards the water and Dale looked to his right towards the water, watching as a couple of young girl’s chased each other around the waters edge, wrestling with a blow-up beach ball. It had been a while since Dale had played with a beach ball, and looked on with a wry smile at the though thought that he’d probably have to wrestle one of the kid’s to get it if he had really wanted to have a go. He could take them. I mean, one of them was wearing glasses and everything.
Nah. Not worth the trouble. Beside’s, Dale was having a pretty good time just sitting where he was, lounging against the tree with a small sketch book propped up against his knee’s, which were pulled in close to his chest to act like a sort of improvised desk.
Whenever Dale was bored, and left alone with some pen and paper, he’d always produce some sort of gallery. He flicked through the pictures; each one more bright and happier than the last, decorated with thing’s such as rainbows, and suns with smiley faces. Everything that Dale McCall was made of - illustrated on paper.
Flicking to a page decorated with yellow and blue stars, toast, white-spotted penguins and pink pineapples, Dale couldn’t help but grin at the flippancy of it all. His uncle, Howard, had often said that they were the scribbling’s of a retard, never really hiding his real opinions on the drawings. Dale, on the other hand, thought they were genius. He wanted to turn them into a cartoon or something. Imagine that? Spotted penguins, toast, and pink pinapple’s all coming to life in animated form.
Dale chewed on the tip of his pencil, tapping his red stack-heeled boot’s absentmindedly. Today, Dale was clad in a KISS jacket zipped up against his thin frame, over the top of a green singlet. He loved that jacket too - with flames lining the bottoms of the sleeves, and red lightning bolts striking in a vertical fashion on his right shoulder, outlined in white. The large 'KISS' logo, wasl also written in red lettering, also with white outlines. Black jeans clung to his short legs, held up by a black belt, with a pacman print on it, and a red perspex ring on his left index finger. Red leather boot’s completed the ensemble, with a small stacked heel, to help give him a little height. Being 5’7” wasn’t much fun.
His hair, as always was the usual basic back-comb structure, slightly root-boosted framing a cheeky fringe. He liked his hair to have the appearance of being a little disheveled, but in a good, healthy-looking way. It was a bit of a theme in itself, it sort of looked like a woman’s wig, worn backwards.
Dale wasnt planning on doing anything today, really. What he had wanted to do was have a duvet day. He had just wanted lay in bed all day, all cosy and warm like a little bug in a rug. Sure it wasn’t very productive, but life wasn’t always about being productive was it? Instead, he decided to hide out in the common room for a bit, and just scoff his face with sweets, which he was cradling on his stomach on top of the sketch book, in a small paper bag.
Sweets are the best invention in the whole world, in Dale's opinion! Bollocks to all that ‘they rot the teeth and mind’ stuff, do they hell! They painted his mind in every colour of the rainbow, but not the dark and gloomy colours, happy colours that brighten the place up. They sparked his imagination and made me grin stupidly. sweets. Packed full with sugar and additives and artificial colours. He didn’t know what the last two are but they taste damn good!
He loved the sweets that resemble animals the best like the long jelly snakes or the small chewy green turtles, but he did love lollypops and sweets that crackled in his mouth. He liked sherbet too, especially flying saucers; he'd bite them open as a kid and drained the powder inside. Sent him dizzy for hours, he used to dart about everywhere grinning madly not caring about anything.
Wine Gums where another favorite of his...but he could never have enough sweets. Jelly Tots too, being a magical sweetstuff as a packet contains 16.7% of your RDA of Vitamin C. And because they ( very slowly, and in chop ‘n’ change installments ) teach you your alphabet.
Chocolate was another favourite, as long as it was milk chocolate he’ll eat it. He could remember trying some dark chocolate once, not knowing what the hell it was. He'd bought this bar from the shop and tried one piece, spat it out and threw the rest of the bar away. Dark chocolate was not nice; it lacked sweetness and just tasted bitter. Apparently it was better for you than milk or white chocolate but Dale thought it was worse. White chocolate was simply amazing the way it melts in the mouth, feels all creamy and light.
Milky Bars were great but Galaxy bars beat them by a mile.
Can’t beat chocolate.
But sweets are pretty genius, they win hands down.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the tree as his tongue flicking up to curl about his incisor as he tried to think about what to draw next. Drat. He hated that. Just as you’re getting back into the mood to draw again, you hit artists-block. And what a time too! On a lazy Sunday afternoon, where there isn’t anything to do. It was the best time to laze about and be as unproductive as you possibly can. He should have stuck to his ‘duvet day’ idea. Maybe he should try going for a swim... the water was clear enough, and it looked clean. He'd never been a very strong swimmer though. Well, growing up in London, when could you get the chance really.
Dale squinted his large grey orb’s with indignation up at the bright sunlight, as it streamed through the sheaf of leaves atop the offshoot of branches above his head. Slouching against the trunk of a large oak tree, he silently cursed himself for forgetting his sunglasses.
Who knew the day would turn out this sunny?
Rivers Edge was practically deserted. Though Dale wasn’t sure if it was always like this, or if it was simply because it was a Sunday afternoon. It was almost as if no one cared about this little place. He sat, quite contently as a light breeze blew through his jet-black locks of hair, listening to the shrill shreaks of gulls, and the quack of nearby ducks. Dale squinted as he glanced up into the sky, watching as several white clouds drifted by, casting their shadow’s upon the sandy surface below. He wasn’t sure what to make out of them; shape’s that was. As he sat and stared into the sky, trying to discern the patterns, he thought to himself that a few of them looked a little like marshmallow puffs.
He hadn’t been planning on coming out here, at first. What he had wanted to do was have a duvet day. He had just wanted to lay in bed all day, all cosy and warm like a little bug in a rug. Sure it wasn’t very productive, but life wasn’t always about being productive was it?
There was a girlish shriek to the left of him, towards the water and Dale looked to his right towards the water, watching as a couple of young girl’s chased each other around the waters edge, wrestling with a blow-up beach ball. It had been a while since Dale had played with a beach ball, and looked on with a wry smile at the though thought that he’d probably have to wrestle one of the kid’s to get it if he had really wanted to have a go. He could take them. I mean, one of them was wearing glasses and everything.
Nah. Not worth the trouble. Beside’s, Dale was having a pretty good time just sitting where he was, lounging against the tree with a small sketch book propped up against his knee’s, which were pulled in close to his chest to act like a sort of improvised desk.
Whenever Dale was bored, and left alone with some pen and paper, he’d always produce some sort of gallery. He flicked through the pictures; each one more bright and happier than the last, decorated with thing’s such as rainbows, and suns with smiley faces. Everything that Dale McCall was made of - illustrated on paper.
Flicking to a page decorated with yellow and blue stars, toast, white-spotted penguins and pink pineapples, Dale couldn’t help but grin at the flippancy of it all. His uncle, Howard, had often said that they were the scribbling’s of a retard, never really hiding his real opinions on the drawings. Dale, on the other hand, thought they were genius. He wanted to turn them into a cartoon or something. Imagine that? Spotted penguins, toast, and pink pinapple’s all coming to life in animated form.
Dale chewed on the tip of his pencil, tapping his red stack-heeled boot’s absentmindedly. Today, Dale was clad in a KISS jacket zipped up against his thin frame, over the top of a green singlet. He loved that jacket too - with flames lining the bottoms of the sleeves, and red lightning bolts striking in a vertical fashion on his right shoulder, outlined in white. The large 'KISS' logo, wasl also written in red lettering, also with white outlines. Black jeans clung to his short legs, held up by a black belt, with a pacman print on it, and a red perspex ring on his left index finger. Red leather boot’s completed the ensemble, with a small stacked heel, to help give him a little height. Being 5’7” wasn’t much fun.
His hair, as always was the usual basic back-comb structure, slightly root-boosted framing a cheeky fringe. He liked his hair to have the appearance of being a little disheveled, but in a good, healthy-looking way. It was a bit of a theme in itself, it sort of looked like a woman’s wig, worn backwards.
Dale wasnt planning on doing anything today, really. What he had wanted to do was have a duvet day. He had just wanted lay in bed all day, all cosy and warm like a little bug in a rug. Sure it wasn’t very productive, but life wasn’t always about being productive was it? Instead, he decided to hide out in the common room for a bit, and just scoff his face with sweets, which he was cradling on his stomach on top of the sketch book, in a small paper bag.
Sweets are the best invention in the whole world, in Dale's opinion! Bollocks to all that ‘they rot the teeth and mind’ stuff, do they hell! They painted his mind in every colour of the rainbow, but not the dark and gloomy colours, happy colours that brighten the place up. They sparked his imagination and made me grin stupidly. sweets. Packed full with sugar and additives and artificial colours. He didn’t know what the last two are but they taste damn good!
He loved the sweets that resemble animals the best like the long jelly snakes or the small chewy green turtles, but he did love lollypops and sweets that crackled in his mouth. He liked sherbet too, especially flying saucers; he'd bite them open as a kid and drained the powder inside. Sent him dizzy for hours, he used to dart about everywhere grinning madly not caring about anything.
Wine Gums where another favorite of his...but he could never have enough sweets. Jelly Tots too, being a magical sweetstuff as a packet contains 16.7% of your RDA of Vitamin C. And because they ( very slowly, and in chop ‘n’ change installments ) teach you your alphabet.
Chocolate was another favourite, as long as it was milk chocolate he’ll eat it. He could remember trying some dark chocolate once, not knowing what the hell it was. He'd bought this bar from the shop and tried one piece, spat it out and threw the rest of the bar away. Dark chocolate was not nice; it lacked sweetness and just tasted bitter. Apparently it was better for you than milk or white chocolate but Dale thought it was worse. White chocolate was simply amazing the way it melts in the mouth, feels all creamy and light.
Milky Bars were great but Galaxy bars beat them by a mile.
Can’t beat chocolate.
But sweets are pretty genius, they win hands down.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the tree as his tongue flicking up to curl about his incisor as he tried to think about what to draw next. Drat. He hated that. Just as you’re getting back into the mood to draw again, you hit artists-block. And what a time too! On a lazy Sunday afternoon, where there isn’t anything to do. It was the best time to laze about and be as unproductive as you possibly can. He should have stuck to his ‘duvet day’ idea. Maybe he should try going for a swim... the water was clear enough, and it looked clean. He'd never been a very strong swimmer though. Well, growing up in London, when could you get the chance really.