RIO's JUNE E-ZINE
THE SUMMER TASTES LIKE APOCALYPSE
Describing stuff
Descriptions by Emily Firmston
Fruit Description:
It is spiky and leathery, with a color gradient. The inside is soft, with seeds randomly spread throughout the fleshy inside.
Explaining Dark to a Five Year Old:
Dark is what happens when the sun goes below the horizon and the world changes colour. Light is pretty much every other time.
Descriptions by Krysia Denys
Fruit Description:
This vaguely undignified fruit tends to grow on impartially majestic vines. When peeled, it can be used in luscious coolers and cocktails. Descriptively, it is the thing used for the drink of the god on Olympus. It may be used as ammunition for fruit guns.
5 Year Old Learns About Light and Dark:
Light is the morning, when the sun wakes you in your bed while I’m downstairs, toiling hard to make you breakfast. Light is when you press the switch and don’t turn it off, causing extraordinary amounts of money to accumulate in out ever-growing tax debt. Light is your favourite white dress, that I saved three weeks’ worth of Walmart cashier sized wages to buy.
Dark is the night, when the moon is covered by clouds; you’re asleep, but I’m getting ready for my night shift. Dark is when the only lightbulb burns out, and the house is cold and frightening. Dark is when you roll around in the mud and your clothes can’t be washed until a month later because we have no spare change for the laundromat.
Fruit Description:
It is spiky and leathery, with a color gradient. The inside is soft, with seeds randomly spread throughout the fleshy inside.
Explaining Dark to a Five Year Old:
Dark is what happens when the sun goes below the horizon and the world changes colour. Light is pretty much every other time.
Descriptions by Krysia Denys
Fruit Description:
This vaguely undignified fruit tends to grow on impartially majestic vines. When peeled, it can be used in luscious coolers and cocktails. Descriptively, it is the thing used for the drink of the god on Olympus. It may be used as ammunition for fruit guns.
5 Year Old Learns About Light and Dark:
Light is the morning, when the sun wakes you in your bed while I’m downstairs, toiling hard to make you breakfast. Light is when you press the switch and don’t turn it off, causing extraordinary amounts of money to accumulate in out ever-growing tax debt. Light is your favourite white dress, that I saved three weeks’ worth of Walmart cashier sized wages to buy.
Dark is the night, when the moon is covered by clouds; you’re asleep, but I’m getting ready for my night shift. Dark is when the only lightbulb burns out, and the house is cold and frightening. Dark is when you roll around in the mud and your clothes can’t be washed until a month later because we have no spare change for the laundromat.
By the Dark Lord
By Sophie
By Willow
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By Willow
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By Willow
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TEAM APOCALYPSE - SURVIVE!!!
The Apocalypse: Things I Bring on The Scavenge:
- My gun
- Knife
- Gas mask
- Compass
- Flashlight
- Car
- Sexy Knife
- Tent
- First Aid
Schedules for the Apocalypse
7:00
- Checj syookues
- Scavenge for food
- Feed puppies/cats
- Breakfast
- Make sure allies don’t become adults
- Don’t grow up/blow up
- Don’t die
- Sleep
- THE END
9:00 – 10:00
Looking at/setting traps
10:00 – 12:00
Hunting & Fishing
12:00 – 1:00
Eat
1:00 – 2:00
Morning support for scientist.
3:00 – 5:00
Random Errands. Eat.
5:00 – 8:00
Gardening
8:00 – 9:00am
Do whatever.
Dear Diary: Apocalypse Version
20505
I buried Bramoma today, and then planted soup flowers on her unmarked grave. Also, some crazy lady made a disease and killed everyone. SAD FACE.
Dear diary,
I found a towel.
Yours truly,
The Scavenger
Dear Diary,
AHHH!...
This day SUCKS! Today I almost died. I was sick and traded the monster truck for my health. Its 4 kids against 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, I dono! I’m almost dead.
The End.
P.S. MY NAME IS BOB.
Dear Diary,
I’m going to die! We lost sidios.
Dear Diary,
You are horrible.
Dear diarrhea,
I can’t wait to kill some people who made the virus, we are having crap good food because of our cook. Thanks to wonderful me I fixed our sickness. Sadly while I had to make an antidote I had fewer memes.
20505
I buried Bramoma today, and then planted soup flowers on her unmarked grave. Also, some crazy lady made a disease and killed everyone. SAD FACE.
Dear diary,
I found a towel.
Yours truly,
The Scavenger
Dear Diary,
AHHH!...
This day SUCKS! Today I almost died. I was sick and traded the monster truck for my health. Its 4 kids against 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, I dono! I’m almost dead.
The End.
P.S. MY NAME IS BOB.
Dear Diary,
I’m going to die! We lost sidios.
Dear Diary,
You are horrible.
Dear diarrhea,
I can’t wait to kill some people who made the virus, we are having crap good food because of our cook. Thanks to wonderful me I fixed our sickness. Sadly while I had to make an antidote I had fewer memes.
By the Dark Lord
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By the Dark Lord
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By Willow
By The Dark Lord
Oh No! by the Rogue Poets
Oh no!
My guinea pig jumped out of the window
Which was one million stories up
And disappeared!
Across the clouds
Oh no….
It seems my fire has exploded
This would be the third time this week
I should get onto construction
Then I would be able to fix it without paying
Someone else to do it every time.
Oh no,
I dropped something
Don’t know what it is
Can’t find it
Maybe it was never mine
Maybe the noise wasn’t me
Keep going, out of time
To look among the floor
Hundreds of moving feet
Oh…no…
Papers dropping, 4 years of slow burn and
Oh…no…
No, no, no, no, no
Not again
This time a girl, boy, nonbinary person
And oh..no…
Today their hair and the light are paired perfectly and
Oh…no…
Their eyes glint in a way that can’t be described by
Poetry and
Oh…no…
They actually said hello today with no sarcasm
And oh…
Oh..no.
Oh no
It’s Yoko Ono
She got kind of
A bad rep
For breaking up the Beatles
But really?
Was it the Japanese avant garde
Artist with the
Voice that broke dolphins occasionally.
Who seemed otherwise nice
Or the newly rich and famous
Young dudes who wouldn’t share
The spoils
Oh no!
Ono
Was a scapegoat. Bah
My guinea pig jumped out of the window
Which was one million stories up
And disappeared!
Across the clouds
Oh no….
It seems my fire has exploded
This would be the third time this week
I should get onto construction
Then I would be able to fix it without paying
Someone else to do it every time.
Oh no,
I dropped something
Don’t know what it is
Can’t find it
Maybe it was never mine
Maybe the noise wasn’t me
Keep going, out of time
To look among the floor
Hundreds of moving feet
Oh…no…
Papers dropping, 4 years of slow burn and
Oh…no…
No, no, no, no, no
Not again
This time a girl, boy, nonbinary person
And oh..no…
Today their hair and the light are paired perfectly and
Oh…no…
Their eyes glint in a way that can’t be described by
Poetry and
Oh…no…
They actually said hello today with no sarcasm
And oh…
Oh..no.
Oh no
It’s Yoko Ono
She got kind of
A bad rep
For breaking up the Beatles
But really?
Was it the Japanese avant garde
Artist with the
Voice that broke dolphins occasionally.
Who seemed otherwise nice
Or the newly rich and famous
Young dudes who wouldn’t share
The spoils
Oh no!
Ono
Was a scapegoat. Bah
By the Dark Lord
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By the Dark Lord
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By The Dark Lord
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Krysia Denys
Alien Object by Krysia Denys
Hm. I wonder what this thing does? It looks like a primitive weapon of sorts, perhaps for the so-called “stage fights” the primal humans used to perform to entertain themselves. But I don’t understand why it has TWO handles! Perhaps it is a sacrificial knife, similar to what we Aliens use to hack another aliens to pieces to offer them to our indisputable god. The inscription says, scissors
Hm. I wonder what this thing does? It looks like a primitive weapon of sorts, perhaps for the so-called “stage fights” the primal humans used to perform to entertain themselves. But I don’t understand why it has TWO handles! Perhaps it is a sacrificial knife, similar to what we Aliens use to hack another aliens to pieces to offer them to our indisputable god. The inscription says, scissors
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Machine by Kira
I step into the machine, I feel every atom in my body scatter. It smells like burned metal, and ash. I taste blood, and the iron in it. My head throbs with the whooshing of the machine.
I step into the machine, I feel every atom in my body scatter. It smells like burned metal, and ash. I taste blood, and the iron in it. My head throbs with the whooshing of the machine.
By Katelyn
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By the Dark Lord
By Jaime
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By Willow
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The Sacred Everyday by Krysia Denys
Scissors. So underrated. But look at their smooth, sharp, silvery blades, the perfect curve of their non-compostable red handles, the minuscule, noble screw holding the holy contraption together. Their grand purpose: cutting through paper. It’s a necessity! If the deity had a definite form, scissors would be it. Their mathematical, point-based, intelligent precision is the trait all lowly humans should aspire to. To be called a scissor must be the highest honour in the world!
Scissors. So underrated. But look at their smooth, sharp, silvery blades, the perfect curve of their non-compostable red handles, the minuscule, noble screw holding the holy contraption together. Their grand purpose: cutting through paper. It’s a necessity! If the deity had a definite form, scissors would be it. Their mathematical, point-based, intelligent precision is the trait all lowly humans should aspire to. To be called a scissor must be the highest honour in the world!
By the Dark Lord
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By the Dark Lord
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By Willow
By Willow