"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


Street Trash

Oh, goodness, eventful day. It all began in French, where Madame made us do dialogues that involved explaining sports to a foreigner. The sport she chose was soccer, which was a bit of a problem.

Me: See, here is the thing. Soccer is ridiculously commercially popular just about everywhere but America.
Madame: Well, see, these foreigners are from a little African community, way out in the woods. And they do not have televisions. Because they do not like them and because they do not want the tribal children to see dirty commercials.

Maggie: I know them! They donated the team of oxen to Heritage Hill!
Madame: So, they had a team of oxen grazing in their backyard? You can only donate something you have, Maggie.
Maggie: They donated the money for the oxen.
Pencil Case, ten seconds later: Oh, I get it!

Yes, then it was off to English for a tornado drill and a Call of the Wild quiz. If Poppa G somehow gets me to enjoy this book by the end of the unit, he is officially not only brilliant but also magical. On the way to English, however, I explained color-coding to Pencil Case and that even organizationally retarded me can do it.

ICP was the usual, and during theology I wrote a very humorous note to Betty. I even threw around social-science terms that she does not know the meanings of. If I get really bored, I am going to make her a chart that explains what these terms are, so that she can understand exactly how frighteningly historically delayed she is due to Mr. B-squared's class and that he might actually un-do all the brilliance Jalonski instilled in us. That sounded a bit misleading, however, because I didn't actually learn my shiny new terms in Mr. Blaney's class. I taught them to myself because I am a dork.

Lunch was funny. I gave Betty her note, and then she said something very gross. I also bribed her with a milk carton that I believe is the infamous cowwy milk. I forgot our funny discussion from yesterday about how we are going to visit Maggie over the summer while she is working at Heritage Hill.
Betty: Yeah, because you can just walk to my house, and then we can walk over to Heritage Hill.
Me: Yeah, and get smashed on Webster Street!
Betty, laughing: Why would we want to get drunk?
Me: No, no. I meant smashed by a car!

Erik: People always come up to me and ask if I broke my nose, and I don't care.
Me: Erik, that is because you're used to it. Your brother's friends are always coming up to you, saying, "You're gay!" and running away.
Erik: Oh, yeah. That's true.

Then it was off to algebra, land of 100 on my quiz yesterday go me.

Art was insane, as usual. Weird Kid is so funny, and Betty brought me a hilarious response to my note.

Weird Kid, to April: You look like street trash!

Weird Kid, to Not-Disabled Wheelchair Boy: I like your necklace.

Weird Kid, to CV, mocking CC: Colin! You gotta factor everything first! You can't do anything if you don't factor!

Weird Kid, to a random passerby: Hit on Tall Lady for me!

Weird Kid: We should get Becky out here. At least she laughs.
Me: Hey, I laugh, too, when you say all your hilariously disgusting Weird Kid things.
Weird Kid: Which is everything.

Weird Kid, to Patrick: At least I'm not Artsie Tartsie's aunt!
Me: He's not. He's her nephew.
Weird Kid: Whatever. What is that thing that is between aunt and nephew? A niece? An uncle?

Now I am in study hall. After school I get to experience the fun event of my first filling, which will probably involve lots of Novocain and oral pain, not that I am not accustomed to this already. However, I am still dreading it. And, because I am commited (read: stupid), I will probably go back to play practice after, hopefully not with my mouth lodged with cotton balls.


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