funny.

Imagine what it would look like if William Hung choreographed a dance for the Harajuku girls. There'd be plenty of uncoordinated arm flailing motions and some side to side steps (not in rhythm). And of course, gawky unmatched outfits. I imagined pink shirts tucked into goldenrod bell bottoms finished off with striped shoes. Maybe your imagination is not as merciful as mine and you imagined them wearing burlap sacks for shirts and socks. That is OK too.

Then you have me. Where do I fall into this picture?

7:25 every morning, William Hung's Harajuku girls assemble in front of Room 106 to show off their untalent.

My philosophy is this: A daily dose of manga keeps the normal friends away.

"Minecomp" (Meinkampf)

I am the most unproductive person on this planet. Ever try to drive a car that hasn't been started yet? Did you make it past the first block? I'm starting to think God forgot to turn my brain on before he woke me up this morning. He drove me past the left turn onto Fullerton Ave. into the school parking lot, into room 106 and still didn't realize I was off. This is cruel.

Then there is the problem of sleep. If Sleep is the devil, then I am its minion.

The right mixture of sleep deprivation and coffee and I am the most tranquil person in the world. Too much sleep and I am boisterous and verbose. ( I can achieve this through abusive amounts of coffee as well.) Too little, and I become an incoherent zombie life support for a brain and some muscles.

Microwaved frozen food in one hand, and coffee in the other, I make it to school just on time. Just on time to hear our beloved Mr. Yates switch his w's and h's. Hwat am I talking about? Hwales. Hwite. Cool Hwip. Such is life. Hcrap.