*The Pointless Writer*

has a life you're completely uninterested in. But it's okay because I can write. No abbreviations. No shoddy grammar (though I'm not immune to mistakes). Just quality writing on sometimes completely pointless topics.

Inspiration/ Hilarity

`cirque. (by Nick)
The Joel Stein
Hyperbole and a Half (by Allie Brosh)

Pointless Yakking

No chatbox.

UnPoints of Note

1. I write when fancy takes. Sometimes, fancy takes many months of leave.
2. Never give up on this blog. I will eventually come back. When fancy has returned from its unfaithful travels.
3. All posts labelled Randomosity were written while I was on my junior college's blog team.
4. Everything is written as a challenge to myself. And it's all in good fun. Cheerio!

Diary of a Hockey Stick
Saturday, April 10, 2010


I’m so excited! I was sold today! I’ve been so bored, posing on that dusty old shelf in that musty little shop, looking pretty every single day. Urgh, how tiring that has been. I can’t wait to play on the field with a professional! I just KNOW that a really famous hockey player must have sent that scrawny guy to get me on his/her behalf!


Oh my gawd. I cannot believe this. What is wrong with these people? They just chucked me into this creepy, dark room with a bunch of other mediocre and used hockey sticks! I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna stay unused, but… But, I’m gonna look much better than them, right? It’s okay, I’m going to pull through this. I can make it! This is just a temporary location, and I’m sure my new owner will sack that scrawny guy for mistreating me.


This is really scary. I’m… I’m not sure about anything right now. Like, I’ve been chatting with some of the mediocre hockey sticks? They’re not the best to talk to, but really, there’s nothing else to do in this dinghy hole! They tell me life’s gonna be really fun? But, I’m not so sure. They’re really glamming up the whole get-held-and-sweated-on-by-schoolgirls routine. I think there must be some mistake. HELLO? IS ANYONE THERE? I SHOULD PROBABLY HAVE BEEN SHIPPED TO SOMEWHERE MORE FAMOUS!!!


The light was blinding today. I almost melted in the sun. Another not-so-scrawny guy came to take us out of the room. And all the other sticks were squealing excitedly. Bimbos. I need someone with technique to yield me. I will file a complaint if nothing is done to get me a better owner, which, I repeat, I deserve. If I have to, I will even get a lawyer. You are forewarned. Anyway, as I was saying, today was quite eventful.

We were thrown roughly onto a hard concrete ground. What happened to the soft turf? After we baked in the sun for a bit, a group of girls came out. “Hey! That’s the one I used last year!” One of the sticks swelled in pride as she was picked up by her owner, who continued to her friend, “The grip’s not bad. Here, why don’t you try this one? Looks good.” I waited expectantly to be picked up, but some grungy-looking stick was picked up instead! What is this? I thought. Do they have no taste at all? I mean, I’m such a delicious pink! How could any girl in her right mind refuse me?


Okay… Today was horrible. I met my sister on the field, or rather, that horrible concrete ground. There was some minor match, which doesn’t even deserve to be mentioned. But the administrators still haven’t sorted out this mess. *spins in irritation* My current, TEMPORARY owner is so unskilled! She’s so bad, she even misses the ball! What happened to the satisfaction of hitting a ball and knowing it’s heading towards a goal? Instead, I’m swishing through the air like a useless kids’ toy.

Anyway, my sister, who was sold a year before me, was bragging to me about how she and her owner are on such good terms. And, she gets to play on real grass, with real soil! What happened to justice? She even gets cleaned by her owner lovingly after every practice! She still looks so dazzling! All her scratches have been filled and she’s even been re-painted. I am so jealous.


Oh dear me, it really seems that those inefficient staff are not EVER going to get me where I belong! Besides, who would want a used hockey stick who’s scratched, has been thrown on the hard floor, has been dumped into a cruel basket, and basically mistreated for four months now? No professional, that’s for sure.


Okay. I have to admit. That kid’s getting better. She’s not such a klutz yielding me anymore. Maybe life won’t be so bad… Maybe.


Hey! Today was really cool! I bumped into a long-lost cousin! She’s been on the ice for many years now, and is as sparkling as ever! Wow. She is so gorgeous. I really aspire to be like her. I told her about how pathetic my career is right now, and she was so inspiring. She told me not to worry and to believe in my owner. She said my owner just needs a little encouragement and then she’ll love me loads and make sure I look good. Thanks so much for the advice, Gazelle! I love you!


Ooh. *shivers* The heat is on! My owner’s team got into the national school finals! This is uh-MAZ-ing! I am so proud of my owner. She may be totally new to the sport, but she sure knows how to learn! Like, her progress is fantastic! I kinda understand why all the other hockey sticks rave about their owners now… It’s like raising your own child. Love her, and she’ll love you back. Thanks for your wonderful advice, Gazelle! Of course, my owner has a long way to go. She still hasn’t given me a new coat of paint! But at least she wiped me clean when she noticed some mud on me! I always like to see the silver lining of every cloud, no matter how big the cloud is, and no matter how thin the lining.


The match was… a disaster. We lost 5-0. What humiliation. I wanted to kick my owner. She didn’t score a single goal! Horrible! But then I realised she was crying, and I tried to comfort her. I told her she doesn’t have to take care of me for a week, and that I’ll take care of her. I’m not sure she heard me. Her sobbing was so loud.

Labels: ,

Chanson des Étoiles at 11:19 PM