Gunter Grass

Kris Marsel
123 Green Ave,
Penticton, B.C.
V2A 3W1

June 6th, 2012

John Smith
Mayor
City Hall 568 Main Steet
Small Village, B.C.

Dear Mr. Smith:
I write to you concerning the life of Gunter Grass. As you know, he has been found of overseeing deaths in the holocaust, but I write to you today to prove that his life has done more good for us, than harm. Please let me explain.

After the deed was done, he lived a better life. The holocaust was a dark chapter in his, and he has done so much good that that chapter should be erased. As you may know he has given so much to charities, and helped so many people. Without him, it is said that, ``those familys would surely become destitute without his aid.”

He is now the age of 92; he is at an age when he estimated to die at any time. Why punish the man, for he has lived his life and it is now over. His wife, the women he loved dearly, has recently died, and he has no one but the people of his small community to make him feel loved. Why turn on him now?

Mr Mayor, i think his past should be forgotten, and let him be remembered for the good he has done to the many he knew. Forget his past, and let it stay there, where it belongs to stay. The past.

Sincerely,

Kris Marsel

Grade 9s.

Let me tell you a story, "Once apon a time in a perfect world, where nothing could be affected by others. Everyone in grade 12 were happy, minding there own business. When in comes the most loved creatures known to humanity. Grade 9's. Oh how we love them so, with there skimpy dresses, girls twice there age feel embarrased to wear. The grade 9 boys, so playfully energetic, running around the hallways, dodging around people, like a angree baboon trying to make its way to food. There smiles, and lack of drama bring joy, almost like a rays of sunshine, to the school.
What we would do without grade 9ers is a complete mystery to me.

Franks

The assignment was simply put a liquid in my mouth, what kind of liquid you may ask? Was it red? Was it spicy? If you guessed that you’re right. "Franks Hot Sauce.” Before the journey from the cup to my mouth expired, it made some stops down Sensory Lane. The smell was if a thousand Mexican farmer women were chopping jalapeños right under my nostrils. The sound of the thick juice from hell, told me that I was in for a ride in seconds to come. Confused, the liquid hit my tongue not knowing what to do; "Should I give him the full blast of my power, or should I wait". It waited. Sitting there puzzled, I thought to myself, it really wasn’t as bad as others expressed! Then it happened. It hit me like a car hydroplaning across an intersection. My body couldn’t handle it. The evil that was assigned to me was now down my thought, and there was no turning back. It took my body for a spin. Do I throw up? Do I wait it out? I knew at that point I was in for agony. Sitting there, as the drink wrestled its way, ruthlessly, into my body. It only lasted a few minutes, but at that point I knew...there’s a reason why people "Put that Sh*t on everything,” it was simply a sauce, with an attitude. Do not drink Franks Hot Sauce, put it on food. Unless of course you want to experience what I went through.

Me, Myself, and I

Kris Marsel
Me, Myself, and I

I am a simple man, but who says being simple has to be negative?
Often seen displaying high levels of parkour skills, I flip my way to saving the world from global warming.
Before school everyday, I teach the blind how to Dougie, eat cereal, read to the deaf, and last but not least teach the crippled how to walk.

Using only my index finger, i have found great treasures, and sold them to the Met.
Using only my index finger i have chosen the winning Vancouver Canucks roster.
Using only my index finger, i have gotten myself to great heights, the 4th floor to be exact.

Despite being known to be the most educated man in Ireland, I am said to be the smartest in the world. I eat, I sleep, and I breathe high school level education.

Have I mentioned I’m interested in your college?

Dear Mr Kleats

Kris Marsel
123 Main Street
Penticton, British Columbia
V2A 3W1

March 8th, 2012

Mr Kleats
Central High School
123 Main Street
Sportstown BC
V2A 1W3

    Hello Mr Kleats, As you may know, my son Jordan Marsel is the best baketball player on your team. As I was at his game last Saterday, I realized some things that I would like to bring to your attention.

    When attending the game, I noticed some things. I realize your a very busy man with all the things you have on your plate, but  the kids need there coach to be there on time, especialy at the games. During the game, the kids were not winning, and you yelled at them, and became very frustrated. I know winning is a big part of the game, but its not everything. People learn from there mistakes, and if you get the children scared of there mistakes, how will they learn? Just food for thought.

    As my kid Jordan is the best player on your team, i think he deserves more play time. I know there are other, more "tallented" kids on the team, but everyone deserves a chance. How am i suposed to keep his hopes up, by telling him hes the best player on your team,when he hasnt played once?

    So as a parent of a child in your team, i would like to thank you for the work youve done so far, but id like to ask of you to change some things, for the better of the team. I would suggest hiring an assistant couch, to be there while your busy, and to make plays. He could help you when your busy, and all around it would take the pressure of everything off your shoulders.

Sincearly,

KRIS MARSEL

Kris Marsel.

cliche assignment

Scenario one: George looked up from shoeing the horse to see the outline of Curley's wife in the doorway of the barn. They were alone.

George looked her over, she was as beautiful as the day is long. She must have noticed because she gave him a look, a look of lust. Georges face was like a deer in headlights. George yelled, " No way jose." His face scrunched up to make a evil grin, "Your no friend of mine".

Curleys wife took 3 steps forward and whispered "Lets cut to the chase.."

George interupted, "Tarts like you always find ways to cross the line, your pretty and all, but beauty is only skin deep".

"What are you saying?" Curleys wife asked.

"Read between the lines, I want nothing to do with your cheating kind. Curlys wife stood there with a look of horror on her face, still as a stump,

"You cant judge someone until you've walked a mile in there shoes" she explained taking another 4 steps towards George. "I want nothing but a friend, someone to talk to, a sholder to cry on".

 "Well thats fine and dandy", explained George, "but we need to find a fine line, I don’t want no trouble".

Curleys wife squealed happily, "Of course.”

George said with a smile, "but you ARE trouble, now get lost". Curleys wife looked at him in anger, and throw her hands up in the air, she turned around and left the barn. George looked towards the barn doors where she left and chuckled to himself, "Dumb broads"

The times of our lives.

Grade 12, The Time of our Lives

   Grade 12, “The time of people’s lives”, right? Where everyone in the school has there eyes on them. They are looked up to by the grades below, expected to be the most mature in the school. The pressures are light: good grades are expected, plans for future assumed to be in place, while all at the same time they have to withhold there social lives and juggle homework, and studying for exams that are only worth a minor 40% of there grade. The grades witch was once theres, are assumed childish, and inferior, always in the way in the hallways. If 12ers have the misfortune of having friends in grades below, they have all 3 grades worth of drama, fighting, and bickering, to listen to.  Even the people in the grade bicker amongst themselves. Some 12’ers leave early to go to there already planned out lives, leaving the others behind, contemplating how unorganized there own lives are. The pressure of leaving the safe place of the school system, that has housed them since they were young, and leaving into the real world, where none of these “pleasures” acure.  It’s not hard to see how it is clearly, the best times of our life.

- Kris Marsel