Nov
03
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on November 3, 2011

Below is a story a student in my third period class wrote based on this image:

This was also a Writing Prompt on Luke Neff’s wonderful site of Writing Prompts. The story is presented here with limited edits (paragraphs).

The Keychain of Officer Katella

It was once upon a time, it was not your time, nor yet my time, but one time. Back when L.A was, a bustling city filled with people with pennies in their pockets, but a wealth of dreams, back when they did not judge a man by his personality, but by their car. It was 1949;Hollywoodwas at its peak, as it became one of the richest cities inCalifornia.

L.A had many good traits on its side, but with every city, there is a gang. “L.A national Bank and Treasury: Tuesday 7:16 Am.” All units at7691 Ball Roadplease respond.” It was in a small police cruiser owned by Officer Katella of the L.A.P.D (L.A police department). It was a cool summer afternoon as the leaves swooped off a tiny oak tree into a small baseball field. Katella didn’t feel like working on his first day, but what choice did he have?

He quietly picked up the transmitter and said “Officer Katella number 117041, off Ball Road, two blocks away from the crime scene, over.”

He looked over at hisSuperior, who was drinking a small french vanilla latte; he wiped the foam off his mustache on his arm, making the sleeve damp. “Ready?” he said in a mild mannered tone.

“As I’ll ever be…” Katella replied.

As they turned on the car and drove to the crime scene, while on the ride though, Katella started to have memories of his previous training he did while tiring out for the job as a Patrolman. Eventually, they reached a small building polluted with screaming and shouting. The screaming triggered a thought in Katella’s mind, a horrible thought.

Going back to 1940 at D-Day, Katella was a sergeant during most of the European Campaign of World War II. His friend Kelly and he were previously on the battle onOmahaBeach. While Katella survived with a small cut on his leg. Kelly never made it through the first rounds of MG42 fire.

Then in a flash Katella was back in the present. He rubbed the luck keychain from the war. Then he got out without word. “Here,” said theSuperior“take the shotgun.” Katella looked up and found a pump action shotgun with 32’ shell casing and double action grip. The gun continued to trigger unwanted flash backs of WW2. Katella soon wetted his lips and, with a sweaty hand, took the shotgun.

He was soon on the steps of the Bank while behind cover. Katella once again wetted his lips and slowly tried to reason with the five suspects inside. “Officer Katella, of the L.A police Department please drop your guns and return to the end of th-,”

“Not so fast copper.” said a shrill voice coming from inside of the building, “you think we be given up that’s easy…not a chance.”

Suddenly bullets pinged on the side of the door in a fast haste. Katella stood back and waited for the sound of a reloading clip. Then, at that moment, the noise the Officer was waiting for went and with a quick jerk out of cover, he managed to kill two of the now remaining three robbers.

Then theSuperiorswooped out of cover himself and shot 3 rounds into the building, a small cry was heard inside the premises as they were only two more robbers left. Katella’sSuperiorwent up the Stairs, “I will catch this Joker, and you get the other one.” He said as he climbed up the stairs at a fast pace.

Katella sprinted after the suspect, eventually cornering him in a small alleyway. “Let’s go Lawboy, you can talk the talk, but can ya walk the walk?”

Suddenly a fist came toward Katella; Katella quickly ducked and pulled the lowlife into a nearby dumpster. The fight continued for several minutes, ending when Katella grappled the guy and hanged him close to a barbed wire fence. Katella furiously choked the Suspect and slowly enunciated “Officer Katella of L.A.P.D, you are under arrest for robbery and assault on a police officer, now com-,”

“NEVER!” shrieked the suspect, screaming at the top of his lungs. The suspect suddenly grabbed Katella and threw him into the blades of the Barbed wire.” “Ha Ha H-,” BAM! Suddenly the suspect’s eyes went cross-eyed and blood fell down his mouth. The victim collapsed to the ground, while bleeding worse than an I.C.U unit.

TheSuperior, with a blank expression on his face put the gun back into the Holster, Then he Spotted Katella. “Oh no, what did those piece of scums do to you.” He sighed as he gazed at Katella’s now lifeless body, going up to it he closely inspected the body and noticed a small keychain ringed around the neck.

He carefully removed the Keychain and put it in the bloodstained barbed wire. “This will keep you remembered.” He said as he walked away.

The key was placed as a tribute to Officer Katella. Many people provided memory to Katella, Gifting him with Flowers and chocolates. Many years passed, the bodies were picked up, and the bloodstains were cleaned.

Many people lost Memory of Katella. However, no matter what, that keychain continued to stay on that Barbed wire post being seen by many people who happen to past it. The most recent was an 8th grade English language arts Teacher named Mr. Davis who saw it while on vacation.

THE END.

“There are many Criminals, but a coward is the worst kind.”- Sheriff of Armadillo: Red Dead Redemption (for you non-gamers that is a game) and I do not know what the Chapter is, go play the game and figure out yourself.

JQ Period 3

Oct
25
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on October 25, 2011

The following is a Writing Exploration a student in one of my classes completed a few weeks ago discussing family…I think you will enjoy it! I present it without editing or corrections by me… Davis

To say that my family is stable 100% of the time would be a lie, and to say that dealing with complications with them is a breeze wouldn’t be honest. All in all, saying that your family is perfect all the time wouldn’t be genuine. Unfortunately, as brutally grave as it sounds, for some people to say they were tortured and traumatized by some selfish and unthinkable acts committed by their parents or siblings/cousins is an unfortunate reality for some. It makes my family, with all its flaws and rough times, sound like heavenly bliss.

In my family, I have both parents (thankfully), two sisters, one older and one younger, leaving me as the only male child as well as the middle child. To be honest, it isn’t the most ideal role in a family, and quite frankly, its never been that way, but considering that my parents have been through considerably rough times tying to help me succeed, I can’t complain. Enough of the tear-jerking subjects though, and on to lighter topics. Like puppies!

I do have some pets to go along with my family; one dog and two cats to be precise. My cats, one orange and one black and white with spots, don;t really do much other than provide moderate amusements, as well as being painfully annoying by crapping all over the place. My dog is an Australian Shepherd whop is more curious than both my two cats combined. Unfortunately (for him, gut-bustingly humors for the rest of us), that will sometimes backfire in his face.

Other than that, I could talk more about my sibling more in depth. For instance, my dad Peter works at an advertising agency retouching photos for ads. My older sister Nina, who is older than me, goes to a college named LCAD, and my little sister Gigi goes to a junior-through-high art school called OCSHA. My mom Maria doesn’t really do anything full time, but she does have lots of special interests, like blacksmith, or various other arts and crafts.

You could say my family’s interested in art. My sisters both go to art school. Mu father works in agencies toughing up photographs for ads. My mom enjoys making stuff in an artsy kind of way. I too am kind of artsy. I like to edit videos and create projects on computers. Definitely our family has a unique blend of artistic ability.

Other than that, I think I’ve milked these topics dry. My family has some special occasions of doing things out of the ordinary, but other than that, it seems to go back to informal straight afterward. I used to go to my uncle’s house inWashington; he’s the one who introduced me into the world of computers and the internet, but ever since my family sold the house, we just haven’t been there. So, family trips are limited to a select few.

Antigenicity wise I guess I’m a a mixed bag. I’m 25% Italian, 12.5% Croatian, 12.5% German, 12.5% Norwegian, Portuguese, Irish, Indian, Hispanic, French, and probably a helluva lot more. My last name, Modaffari, is Italian, meaning “fashion (moda) beacon (ffari)”. Some have claimed that the surname derives fromPersia, but I don’t know what to believe. All I know is that it’s a mouth full to say and that it won’t fit that snug on a name tag.

I know I haven’t even reached the end of the first page yet, but by now you probably realize that I’ve gotten pretty bad writers block thinking of something else to say about my famously. I get that a lot. I guess dealing with people you’ve known for a prolonged period kind of sucks the topic dry. Its’;s almost like your mind is an essay and things you encountered in life keeps your mind bushy finish until you’ve already through it out before, like a hamster spinning in a wheel. (I’m not implying that I am lazy. I just think that it’s mildly exhausting balancing out subjects and expressing things you find ordinary.) Wow, what the hell was I on when I wrote that last paragraph?

That’s not to say I think my family’s boring. My little sister and me play a lot and we both like to humor each other (albeit in slightly absurd ways). My dad and I like to chat, tale walks, and play sports. My mom is a great sources for help, and (I guess) you can say that my older sister is a good role model when it comes to perseverance. I’ve never seen a more realistic family than them, if that’s for sure.

The threshold in which I can keep talking about my family has reached its maximum (for the lack of a better term), so I might as well just consider talking about something else.

Or not.

Here’s a cat.

There, are ya’ happy now?

M to M Period 3

 

May
08
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on May 8, 2011

In MLB, I think that drafting new players should be more anticipated than the NFL. Great players are coming sports left and right, so why is one more anticipated? Well, my answers would mean nothing compared to anybody else’s opinion, that’s why answers can be unlimited. In the NCAA for football, players are known by many people, so of course NFL drafts are going to be more anticipated. I can understand that. But what I don’t understand is why the MLB draft is less watched, broadcasted, and talked about.

Well, here’s my “answer.”

For one, the NFL is a way more popular sport than baseball. Just look at the views for the World Series compared to the Super Bowl. Many people watch the Super Bowl, real fans or not.

But only the real fans watch the draft. This is very crucial for my reasoning because without the “fake fans” watching the Super Bowl, what does my opinion even mean? It means that I don’t have the right to say that the NFL is more popular. I remember that only one player was talked about last draft for the MLB, Bryce Harper. He was talked about for quite awhile. That’s great, but it does show characterization for my reasoning. This leads to my final reason, the most recent NFL draft.

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Cam Newton, the college great, is on the Carolina Panthers. I’m sure fans are upset about this because with all due respect the Panthers aren’t talented. A 2-14 record isn’t anything to ride home about. Many fans wanted, well at least I, wanted Cam to go to the Minnesota Vikings. This team has fantastic young players. Not going into detail. Now this would be talked about for days if this happened.

Well, for Cam and the MLB, I hope for the best.

May
03
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on May 3, 2011

Hi, my name is Justin. Not Justine.

Justin.

Justin

Feb
08
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on February 8, 2011

Below is a picture I took while on vacation in Los Olivos, California.  After parking at a restaurant for dinner, waiting for my wife to take my daughter out of the car, I noticed a set of keys resting on barbed wire.  I immediately grabbed our camera and snapped a photo.  This weekend I ran the photo through a filter in Instagram. Lastly, as part of our Weekly Review, I asked students to tell the story of this picture.  Below is a sampling of responses…

BarbedWireWriting

Outside of my house, we have a barbed wire fence.  Have you ever heard of people keeping their spare key under the house mat of their front door? Well, my family keeps it near the front yard on a barbed wire fence. I know that seems pretty weird, but nobody can really see it. This is because right next to the barbed wire fence there is a humongous tree blocking it! The tree is as big as like a skyscraper! So, in my opinion, it is the perfect place to keep a spare key.

Kelena Nevaraz Period One

The keys were a lost child, looking for a home.  When the clouds rolled in, it was as if the sky was aware of the child’s confusion The clouds were like a human with sorrow for a child.  The barbed wire, like someone generous, took the keys in, and gave it a home.

Jeremy Hunt-Provenghi Period Four

The key was just sitting there. It was a stone. Until the wind came and it began to blow. It moved back and forth, like a ship on the water. Until it fell upon my father. ”Where did this come from?” he asked in confusion. Then I woke up and started wondering, was that an illusion?

Amanda Hamelinck Period Three

He was running. Running as fast as he could, audibly panting, his chest heaving like a buffalo. He heard the police K-9 dogs about 100 yards behind him. Directly ahead of him he saw a chain link fence. Relief coursed through him, as he put on a quick burst of speed. When he reached it, however, he saw it was topped with razor wire. Hanging on one of the blades though, was a set of keys. Could it be… he tried the lock on the gate and found to his everlasting relief, that it worked. Once he swung the gate open, he stopped and turned around to hang the keys back on the blades. He felt that they belonged there. Then he turned and vanished into the night. And that is where, on vacation, Mr.Davis found the keys.

Alexander Ruiz Period Seven

“I flunked again…” A kid thought sadly as he slowly walked home, the hot sun surrounding him with heat like an oven. He could already hear the lecture his parents would give him, “Why can’t you try harder?”….”It’s your own grade!” and blah blah blah….It’s not like he wanted to fail, he just did. A car sped by and drove through the huge poodle of water, splashing it all over him.
“ARGH.” he groaned, looking down at his wet clothes and threw his hands up in frustration.
“No…no no no.” he stuttered helplessly as his keys flew out of his hand and landed on a barbed wire. This was not his day…

Yanan Wang Priod seven

Jan
20
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on January 20, 2011

Chpt3AcaVocab

Dec
19
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on December 19, 2010
Nov
20
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on November 20, 2010

Nov
18
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by on November 18, 2010

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