Wednesday, October 26
When Mr. Wittner was taking attendence in gym class, he tells me to come up to him. I'm thinking that there was something wrong with my grade or that he had something important to tell me, but then he tells me a story about a street vendor in New York who sold pretzels and bagels. His name was John (or Dan?) Bagelman and Mr. Wittner would call the guy John the Bagel Man. Then he made me go sit back down. He told me this story because I'm a bagel fiend and that's pretty much all I eat in school except for candy and french fries, bagels making up for 80% of what I eat. Man, does that Mr. Wittner know how to make someone's day. His picture is right under the word "awesomemotherfucker" in my book. It's my book, that's why "awesomemotherfucker" is a word.

You know what's disappointing? When all of the nice looking jackets in your house are too fucking small. My leather jacket feels like it's shrunken an inch or two since last year but still weighs about ten goddamn pounds. So today I borrowed my mom's shearling lined jacket, and even though my back and shoulders were as warm and cozy as Axl Rose in a Dunkin' Donuts kitchen, my hands were more frigid than the lines of exposed skin on his head where his cornrows are parted. Now I'm going to wait until I get several paychecks from work to buy something new that fits. Jesus fucking Christ, it's about time that my hormones told me that they've been eating their Cheerios in the morning.

So this really scary little asian girl keeps staring me down in the hallway every B day after first block. It's really fucking scary because she's pretty fucking short and really fucking pale with that typical japanese orangey color dyed hair, and the puffy pink jacket with the fur trim and Ugg boots. I don't know what her problem is, but I always spot her looking at me, like I've got some kind of problem or that I look too weird. Well excuse me, missy, we're only from the same continent. This girl is so freaky, I don't even know what grade she's in. I've never heard her speak or even open her mouth. She looks at me like I've disgraced something or that she's stalking me for some unusual reason, and it doesn't help that she's paler than Howard Stern's ass. And everybody's seen Howard Stern's ass, because he was Fartman.


Christina N. @ 5:25 PM