Little Miss Muffet

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If you really want to hear about it, the first thing I‘d like to tell you is my name, and the second thing I would tell you is about this day that I had really bad luck. I bet you would not have any interest with it because it is kind of boring and lousy, but whatever, I just need to say something about it. Oh boy, almost forget to tell you my name; it’s Muffet. It is the silliest name I have ever heard of.  Who would give their child that kind of name? Okay, fine, my parents would. I do not get along with my parents because they never really cared about me, which you can see by what they did with my name. They probably picked the name randomly. Randomly. I told them thousands of times that I want to change my name, but they must be deaf for they never changed it. My mom would tell me, “Baby, it is the sweetest name and I think it is suitable for you.” For Chrissake! Sweetest name? Is she crazy? I know she is a liar, she does not like the name either, how phony she is. She’s just trying to make me feel a little better but can’t be bothered to change it.  If you’d ever have the chance to get to know her though, you’d know she is a real angel.


Bad things seem to always happen to me. No kidding. Don’t ask me why.  I think Mr. Bad Luck just likes me.  Here’s what happened that ugly day, if you even care to hear me out.


Boy, how lovely I was. I was in a dancing tournament last week. Dancing is just about the only thing I like to spend time doing. While I was on this bus getting to Redmond, where the event was taking place, there was this nasty little chipmunk of a kid who took my bag away; yes, she stole it, just like that. And she jumped off the bus as fast as hell, and disappeared out of sight.  I was shocked, really, shocked. I never made it to Redmond. Getting home was all I could manage. When I told my dance teacher about the story, she wasn’t even angry, but instead just ostracized me. What’s that supposed to mean, right? I was pretty depressed, man. So, I went to the tuffet, where I always go to whenever I feel low. It was my grandpa’s favorite spot, and he always used to take me there. He was the only person who cared about me. You cannot imagine how funny and nice he was, but he left me two years ago. Damn, I miss him so much.


I kept eating my crummy curds and whey. I eat curds and whey not because I like them or something, it’s just the only thing we have left in the house. As I said, my parents do not care about me. They just took off for Hawaii, and curds and whey are the only things they left for me. Damn, do they think I could survive for a whole week with only curds and whey? They are so clueless, but it’s okay. I just found some dough in my pocket, and I think it’s enough to get me by for a week. Anyway, getting back to my story, all of a sudden, a spider just came out of nowhere and it frightened the hell out of me. Really. I jumped three meters high, and got away from that old tuffet in a flash. I’ll be damned if that happens again, but I know I’d still go back to my old grandpa’s tuffet when I don’t feel swell.  So that was what happened that ugly day. I feel a little better after I wrote it all down.  I don’t know, I’m a person born with the worst luck, I guess.






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