Not the band, of course, hehe.

There was a train sitting right in my driving path, when I left school. I watched all the other cars go around and turn down this mysterious, dirt path with gravel strewn haphazardly, just enough to help you maintain friction.

I almost even considered putting the car in park so I could really wait for the train to pass.

But the newfound path looked so...there. I'd ridden or driven to school two years of my life, only to just now find a new path to freedom?

I put my turn signal on and followed the last two into the abysmal track.

It was a kind of long road, and I had a harder time controlling this huge thing encompassing my body--my car; some of you may know him as Charles or Devious Charles (if you're being formal). Dirt flew over my windshield. I couldn't see more than the car right in front of me, but there was still this feeling of calm and happiness bubbling into me. We took another turn, then came to a fork.

I signaled for the women turning my way to turn first. She smiled and waved, I smiled back, but too late.

But that's meaningless. We drove a little longer then wound under the tracks, finally over. We hit normal road again, after a couple holes in the path.

Civilization!

And I thought it was over, except I had no idea where I was, other than that I was turning onto the correct street; thank God I remembered my street names.

I took a left; no good. It didn't feel right (haha PUNNNN), for some reason. I trusted my gut and made a three-point turn in the middle of the road, not reckless, for once, minding my traffic.

Then I sped all the way down the road, which is truly the beauty of the country roads--no cops.

Things started to look familiar.

Then more.

Then more.

Then I was at the turn, knowing my exact path to home, only a few minutes behind schedule.

I turned the knob for my wiper fluid and for my music. My car boomed of success.

Charles, you are SO getting a car wash.

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After applying sleaze repellent (after denying the guy several times, come on), I proceeded to slather it on the whole of my friends.

(8:14:33 PM) spyjytjyjy21: got n e friends lol
(8:14:47 PM) Kagrbo: None that are looking.
(8:15:11 PM) spysjyfjnyfsjyfY21: so lol
(8:15:42 PM) Kagrbo: So we have this pesky thing called a system of morals.
(8:15:54 PM) spduryhjtrjnfthjY21: haha
(8:15:57 PM) spnotespeciallykjhga1: im hott lol
(8:16:01 PM) spenotevencloseOY21: n sexy n funny n cool
(8:16:15 PM) Kagrbo: And modest?
(8:16:21 PM) Kagrbo: Ehhhhh not so much there.
(8:16:22 PM) sphahahahdoi21: nodest ???
(8:16:31 PM) Kagrbo: Modest...humble...
(8:16:39 PM) spewoweljkeY21: im that to iguess lol
(8:16:57 PM) Kagrbo: You should look it up sometime.


And therein lies the reason for my uproarious laugh.


Suggest the attacker looks something up in the dictionary and close the conversation box, [hopefully] forever.

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Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

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STOP BRINGING ME SHELLS BACK.

I have so many shells, and I don't know what to DO with them. They're not edible. They're not pencils or paper or anything useful. They're too TINY to use as decorations...!

So stop! Stop bringing me useless things! If you care about me, bring back a towel, or a necklace...anything! I don't care if you bring me back seagull, as long as I have some USE for it! (As a side note, imagining what I could use a seagull for is both rewarding and, at times, horrifically perverse.)

I'm trying to clean my room! Come on! Come back, and take these monstrosities AWAY, and YOU try to find a place for them.

JUST TRY. Because I think it would be really, really entertaining, to watch you try to place these tiny little useless creations somewhere in a large expanse of space.

Pretty? Yes, they're just awesome.

But they have no use.

If you're one of those friends, I would like you to know that you're making my life hell, right now.

THANKS.

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