dapickle
(Tuba!)
(Tuba!)
| Member Since: | Monday, June 06 2005 @ 10:34 PM CDT |
| Contact: |  |
| Homepage: | http:// |
| Location: | Los Angeles, CA USA |
| Song Comments: | 83 |
| Song Votes: | 30 |
| Forum Posts: | 95 |
| Weekly Points: | 0.00 |
| Total Points: | 473.05 |
Bio:
I was raised in a log cabin where I learned to jam with chipmunks using native instrument made out of oak branches. After they abandoned me in the middle of the woods, I was found by a search team who were originally looking for Bigfoot. They took me into their HQ where I was stolen by Rumplestiltskin's wannabe brother, Crumplesinkholenose. He was about to consume me so he could be on the news to get publicity for his new book, "In The Shadows: A Memior of a Crumpled Soul" when he was shot 18 times by his own non-envious brother. Soon he took me as his own and named me Hannah, which, spelled backwards is Hannah. Plus, it was a chick's name. Child services came after getting a complaint from some porr miller's daughter. When they found out that Rumpy named me Hannah, I was put into a foster home and Rumplestiltskin was sentenced to life. The nuns at the foster home were harsh disiplinarians, who gave me my fear of wooden rulers. We also weren't given a suffient amount of food, and a child was already sent to the streets after asking for some more gruel (a watered-down version of porridge). We soon revolted by breaking out and ordering twelve-hundred pizzas that the nuns didn't intend to pay for. All of the free children jumped for joy as they crossed the street, but didn't look both ways. 7 children were squished by an unaccompanied steam-roller. The rest were crushed by Godzilla, who just happened to be passing by. I was the only one left. Now being homeless, shoeless, and clothes-less (I was so happy to be free that I started streaking) I was forced to explore the city on my own. I was strolling along when my eyes caught a glimpse of a group of Tuva throat singers who amazed me. I immediately head to the head of the group and exclaimed, "I want to be a Tuva!". The leader, who was deaf in his left year due to a tragic childhood accident involving Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix misheard my request and replied, "You want to be a Tuba?" A passer-by laughed and said, "Tuba, what a great name!"
Please, call me Tuba.
I was raised in a log cabin where I learned to jam with chipmunks using native instrument made out of oak branches. After they abandoned me in the middle of the woods, I was found by a search team who were originally looking for Bigfoot. They took me into their HQ where I was stolen by Rumplestiltskin's wannabe brother, Crumplesinkholenose. He was about to consume me so he could be on the news to get publicity for his new book, "In The Shadows: A Memior of a Crumpled Soul" when he was shot 18 times by his own non-envious brother. Soon he took me as his own and named me Hannah, which, spelled backwards is Hannah. Plus, it was a chick's name. Child services came after getting a complaint from some porr miller's daughter. When they found out that Rumpy named me Hannah, I was put into a foster home and Rumplestiltskin was sentenced to life. The nuns at the foster home were harsh disiplinarians, who gave me my fear of wooden rulers. We also weren't given a suffient amount of food, and a child was already sent to the streets after asking for some more gruel (a watered-down version of porridge). We soon revolted by breaking out and ordering twelve-hundred pizzas that the nuns didn't intend to pay for. All of the free children jumped for joy as they crossed the street, but didn't look both ways. 7 children were squished by an unaccompanied steam-roller. The rest were crushed by Godzilla, who just happened to be passing by. I was the only one left. Now being homeless, shoeless, and clothes-less (I was so happy to be free that I started streaking) I was forced to explore the city on my own. I was strolling along when my eyes caught a glimpse of a group of Tuva throat singers who amazed me. I immediately head to the head of the group and exclaimed, "I want to be a Tuva!". The leader, who was deaf in his left year due to a tragic childhood accident involving Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix misheard my request and replied, "You want to be a Tuba?" A passer-by laughed and said, "Tuba, what a great name!"
Please, call me Tuba.
