Dear Die-ary...

^That's what I said when...they...came to my house...(I drew it yesterday, by the way)

Today I met Satan's son. Again. Satan's son is.......my cousin Jamie. And satan? That's my aunt. Well, who said satan had to be a guy? She's satan because ever since my Mom blabbed about me being bad. She never complains about anyone else but me, because I'm the youngest. She stares coldly at me, like the north wind to the sun. Little Jamie immediately came in, and rang the doorbell (in that order). He ran up to me, and told me all sorts of garbage, I don't know what exactly... He says the most random stuff. He's hyper, too. Charlie, the older, more mature cousin, came in, and mumbled 'hello'. We then went up to my room, and they became 'connected' with my hamster. Poor Penfold, he got stuffed with food.

Pretty much as soon as they got there, we ate. I was forced to eat this crud, pastry with egg and mayonnaise on it. I did not eat it. In fact, I hardly ate at all. The clan of Satans shovelled down what food there was. Well, OK, uncle Peter and Charlie are pretty cool. But Jamie wanted to go through my drawings, which was bad, because I had drawn him as his satanic self.

The most worrying parts of the day, was when Jamie had constipation, and let loose in the toilet. He was yelling things like, "I've done it! Look Mom!!!!!" A great triumph. Me and Charlie were killing ourselves laughing. What made it worse was when my Mom brought in a chocolate yule log, and then we exploded. Jamie came back, smiling at his achievement.

We then went upstairs to my room again. Jamie started tackling my giant SpongeBob toy, and called him a giant 'mother-f*cker'. Me and Charlie laughed again. Jamie then picked up Al the rubberchicken, and said he wanted to have s*x with it, so could we kindly leave the room. We left. Squeeking noises and grunts came from my room. (Jamie is about 7, by the way.) I was mentally disturbed, but still laughed. Charlie tried to get in, and was shouted at. Thankfully, Jamie still had his clothes on.

I guess it was a shame they left. But Invader Zim called!! But I'll never look at Al or SpongeBob the same again. And now for another disturbing picture!!

I'll start with a game you can all join in with.
Look around you, choose five things nearby, list them and comment on them: what is it, how it ended up nearby, and why you need it. (pics optional, yet encouraged)

Alright, number 1!
My 4 DangerMouse badges
Nearby so I know they're safe. They're kind of a lucky charm, and help keep what sanity I have left.

Number TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Paper and pencils (and a rubber)
Nearby so if I have an urge to do something artistic, there's something there that I can burst my pus-like neediness on it.

I'm free! I'm free!
A gel bottle
Just in case there's a bad hair problem needing sorting out.

So what? I'm four!
Some sort of electrical...thingy.
Just like now. I thrive on electrical stuff. It fascinates me.

LAST ONE: five (I can count!!)
FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD or DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINK

Aw, look, Zim's hugging a sandwiche. Sorry, sandwich. Always making that mistake somehow. Anyway, I need it nearby so I don't have to go far if I have a sudden urge to gorge myself with snacks. Lately, I've just needed drinks, but you know, both's good.

Well, with that game done, I'll get on with my blog. First, let me explain my first picture at the top theeeeeeeeeeeeere^. Last night I realised how much time I had left until I had to go back to skool. I almost swore. And that's bad, seeing as it was midnight, and everyone was asleep. But I managed somehow to maintain my sudden attack of Tourette's. I haven't done anything productive either, except draw. I don't think my drawing's improved, but I still do it.

2 days ago (couldn't be bothered to report it), I went to an aunt's new house. Not a drive-down-the-road-oh-look-there-it-is trip, it was a 2 hour trip. I dressed like Dib again, and scared my little cousins. It was so boring there, I found a rocking chair and didn't stop rocking on it for half an hour. I didn't see the point in the trip, in fact, I don't think there was any point. Despite my mom's gossip, I was constantly offered nuts and highly-sugar-contented stuff. I had to stick to bread and chicken nuggets. Degradeeeeeeyyyy-ness. We went on a meaningless walk, and proved myself to be the queen of walking (in my view, anyway). With all the little ones complaining, and the adults scared of getting mud on themselves or their precious-little-darling-piranas, I happily walked on ahead, no pain, zooming like a snail with a jetpack. Walking's the only sport-related thing I'm good at (apart from puddle-splashing), and I've somehow had lots of practise. So I zoomed ahead. Aha-ha-ha. I also kept reminding my parents that Invader Zim was to be on soon (in 5 hours) and I HAD to go home or I will have to kill them. So I managed to drag them away before we were made to dance.

Joy!

This morning, I remember, around 8:00, I heard banging and crashing as the Daniels family household emerged from their beds. But not the youngest member (that being me). After a few minutes of this, I heard, "Isn't Emily up?" "Where's Emily?" And I heard someone trying to listen into my room. They left me alone, and I properly awoke at 9:30 (the time I always get up in the holidays).

I came down with Penfold, my hamster, while everyone stared at me. I sat at the table, and put my over-exited ball of fluff there. I then opened his presents for him, and left him to play with it. Unfortunately, he seemed to take no interest in his 'edible wooden jungle-gym', and decided to run around on the table. While 'playing' with him, everyone was endeavouring to force me to open my presents, and I refused. I put Penfold in his ball, and watched him, and I was still being forced to open them. Penfold wet himself, and I had to put him back in his cage. But when I came downstairs again, I was ambushed, and taken to see one present outside (guess what it is). As I approached the kitchen, I saw out the window to large handlebars sticking up. I was then taken to the backdoor to take a closer look. As I guessed, it was a purple chopper bike. Mom then persuades me to go and ride it. I went outside. As soon as I stepped onto the cold patio, I, for the first time this winter, realised how cold it really was. Nevertheless, I rode the bike, and at the same time getting wet with dew. But I found a great delight in the horn. (Well, I would, wouldn't I?)

I came back in, and was ambushed yet again. Since I had seen one present, they seemed to think that I was OK seeing the rest of them. I had no choice but to go. One present was a mouse for my (this) computer. It was a cordless one, but I still haven't clicked to how it works. I only got one clothes-related item, and that was from...one of my aunts, and her tribe (family). They were a PINK scarf and PINK gloves. Shows how much they 'love' me. I even got some random sheep noughts and crosses. But there was one present which...I don't know...moved me? They say the smallest presents are usually the best, and maybe that was true. It was one of the smallest presents out of everyone's pile (ironically, my pile was also the smallest). I didn't know what it was, and I had no idea I get it. I opened it and it was a pile of bubblewrap. Then I realised that the present was INSIDE the bubblewrap, and so opened it. I slid the contents out, and there was 4 DangerMouse badges, including a copy of my missing one. In fact, there are only 4 in the complete set. My sister said that what I had there was probably the last complete set of DangerMouse badges in England. Wowzer... In case if you weren't wondering, they were: DM and Penfold together, DM's head, Penfold's head, and Greenback (boo, hiss). I lost a badge, but gained the whole set. I don't plan on wearing them, in case one was to be lost.

I was then again forced to do something. Get dressed. Today, instead of the usual grey and red, I wore black trousers and 'cloak' and grey shirt. I rather looked like Dib.

Exept I don't have those cool boots... Who doesn't love those boots!! They are so cool!!!!! Anyway, I rode my chopper to my Nan & Grandad's. Only, my brother took over most of the time. When we got there, it kinda seems they got more presents than me. But I don't really care, as I've said before, I hate Christmas (sorry, Xmas). Anyway, we were there for quite a while, and for once I endeavoured to join in with the conversations. I hear we're going back again later.

I don't know what else to say, so I close this. GOOOOODBYEEEEEEERRRRZZZZZZZZ.

Please excuse me, Room With A Moose, I wanted to use this pic. Well, at least I said where it came from.

Well, let's see... Nikki has forced me to update, so I have to say something. Blah. Well, 2 days ago, I got Sky TV (yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!!) But everyone thinks I've had it for YEARS... But at least I've got it now. Rules of it is: 9:30-10:30 is definately MY time. Because that's when Invader ZIM and DangerMouse are on!!!!! God, I missed IZ. It was so funny... Oh well. I can watch it now >:-D

Yesterday, on MSN, a plastic known as Georgina came on. For some reason, she started asking me 'councilling' questions. There were ones like, "Do you have a boyfriend? Why don't you have a boyfriend? Why have you never had a boyfriend? Why don't you want a boyfriend? Don't you want to have s*x?" ...and then she went on to describe how she had s*x with her boyfriend and how nice it was. I am mentally scarred. Well, I was before, but even more so now. And another thing she said was that I was her best friend. Hmm. I've never been called a best friend before, especially not by someone I don't really know that well. Oh, why couldn't someone be online??

Well, thus concludes another thrilling episode of 'Bob's life'.

RIDE THE PIG!!!!!!!

Left figure: Bob (me)
Right figure: the common plastic (weirdus plasticus)

Last day of school this year. Everyone looking forward to it, except me. I still had Fluffy the Dragon (my art project) to do, with no more time to do him at school. Well, I come in, and I am showered with presents. Then the bell rings, and we go. I endeavour to tidy up the little mess, and everyone's piling out. "WAIT," I cry, but my screams were in vain. The door slammed shut in front of me. With my hands full, I looked about me. "HELP," I shout out, "HELP!!" I looked out, and saw some sixth-former plastics. "HELP," I yell out again. What they did next astounds me, although I should have seen it coming. They stared at me, like a cow looks at an oncoming train. (I'm not a train, but.......)

We are soon marched into the hall. It felt like a World War 2 prison camp (Treblinka, possibly, or maybe even Auschwitz). We are then sat down in cramped rows (yup), while they put on some vile Christmas music. The whole school was crammed into the small hall, while the teachers guarded the doors in case of any escapees. Then, some sixth-formers came onto the stage, and did a performance they patched up together in 5 minutes. It rather scared me, one of the girls grabbed her crotch every now and then and did...actions. Teachers somehow approved. Just as I thought it was all over, and wanted to get up, teachers come on stage, and play loud music and danced around. All the while, gormless induhviduals clapped and declared their love to the male teachers. Me, on the other hand, stuck my fingers in my ears. I was near a teacher, but they didn't see that my ears were about to explode and splatter on the walls. In case you didn't know, loud noises make me dizzy, and ill. I wanted to die, there and then, to make a statement. Shame my heart kept pumping blood. Another thing I wanted to do was scream at the top of my voice, and drown them all out. But I somehow...couldn't. If you were wondering how loud it was, I stuck my fingers in my ears, and it was still loud. I just don't know why they are immune to this.

JESUS!!!!!! I haven't been on much for 2 days, as I've had to finish my art project. OK, well, it's still not finished yet, but I've got it up to the 'good' standard. It's a GIANT dragon sculpture (called Fluffy), which is aproximately 3 or 4 times bigger than originally planned. I figure my math wasn't...er...very good. Well, I was meant to cut bits of magazine out and stick it on him, like a mosaic kind of...thing. Thing is, I ran out of magazine before I finished his HEAD. So I had to buy (this was yesterday) some colored card, and stick it on him. The end result? He looked like either (take your pick)...........

• he had been covered in colored selotape, or
• he'd been made out of (a lot of) plasticine.

I had to transport him to school in some ungodly hour in the morning today (if you can call it 'today'). I tried to modrock his wings up, but they fell down. Oh dear. This was even worse as he'd sort of been destroyed, and the teacher wanted to take a picture of everyone's work. BUM.

Well, also yesterday, I found a CD I used to listen to when I was about 2 years old. It was of the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band (New Tricks). And I found my favorite song from them on there! It was Hunting Tigers out in Indiah, and I'm listening to it right now. Yay!!!!!

Ahem. Now I must talk about the Pinky and Brain installment for today's entry. 2 days ago (a Saturday, in case it slipped your mind), I was watching Dick and Dom, and I was ready to record P&TB (I'll never live that joke down). When it came on, it was the Christmas special. Although I disagree with Christmas, that episode was just SOOOOO SWEET!!!!!!!!! It was, it really was. Brain makes a doll based on himself, called 'Noodle Noggin'. He plans to go to Santa's workshop and get all the elves to make them for him, as he needs to get everyone in the world to have one, so he can tell the world that he's world leader via the dolls. Pinky all the way through writes a letter to Santa, and tries to get it to him. In the end, when they get back to the lab, Pinky remembers he forgot to give his letter to Santa!! He shows Brain that he forgot, and cries (aw). Brain takes the letter, and tells Pinky to forget about it and to pull a lever when the dial goes to red. Brain then reads the letter and finds out...it was all about him. I can't remember it word for word, but it said something like,

"Dear Santa,

Hello. Haha NARF. This Christmas, I don't want anything, but I'd like to tell you about my dear friend, the Brain. He only wants what's best for the world, and he tries really hard, but gets no reward. So this year, just give everything for me to the Brain.

Love, Pinky.

P.S., do you, by any chance, have the world in that big sack of yours?"

Something along those lines, anyway. But to get to the point, it was SOOOO SWEET. Brain realises how much he means to Pinky. He is touched by the letter. When it comes to transmitting his message to the world (via the dolls), he instead, hesitates, and wishes everyone a merry christmas. Then he smashes up all the equipment (yay, smashy time!!!!!!!), and blah blah blah. I'm glad I got that on video :) (By the way, sorry if this was a GIANT spoiler for you!)

About talking to old friends. In history, we decided to invite my old friend and enemy, LP, over. There was a quiz, and then we got to watch Blackadder. On the bus, when she sat down in the seat behind me, she started talking to me about Blackadder, and random things. It seemed like we were...friends again. Maybe.......

Guten Byen!!!!!!!

I woulda used the Brain pic I used last time, but I try not to use the same pic too many times.

Today in class, I was minding my own business. I put my stuff (junk?) on a table, and left it on its own. The plastics come along, and pass my stuff around between them, each fingering (bad word to use, I know) my homework diary. I told them not to, and I know they heard me, as they looked up. But they continued going through it. I went over, and told them again, nay, INSTRUCTED they leave my possessions alone. At this point, one girl was fingering it, stupid girl. To make my order noticable (it was anyway, as the whole class went silent at this point) I firmly hit the homework diary with a VERY loud thud. I made sure her hand was out of the way. I then took up my book, and put it with the rest of my stuff, the whole class watching me (or so it seemed). There were gasps from the plastics. Their eyes bulged in their plasticcy sockets. Screeches of plasticcy horror came from their synthetic mouths. I took my seat (not literally).

I sat in my seat. I was enjoying what little life I had left. Then something bounces off my head. Then again...then again! I turned 'round. These somethings came from nowhere, from what I could see. I turn back. Something hits Sophie (my friend) instead. I hear, "Aw, you missed!" At this point I felt very paranoid. I set a trap. I was ready to turn 'round. The next something hits again, and I turned 'round quickly and sharply (the joy of having a quick reaction, as I've said before) and saw the arm of the culprit. I stood up. My finger pointed at her. "OI," said I, "I saw that." Said is not the best word...Boomed? It must have been loud, as the class was, yet again, silent. I felt power, for some reason. But she ('she' being the owner of the arm) was smiling. I stepped over. I demanded an explanation. "You hit ma fweind," is what she said. I came closer, as if in protest. I must warn you, reader, whenever I get angry, I have no control over my actions. I could swear, hit someone, or cut off my arm, and not know I've done it until afterwards. I feel...possessed...somehow. Anyway, as I closed in on her, she screamed out, "COME ANY CLOSER AND I'LL HIT YOU!!! I WILL, I WILL, I WILL, I.......(etc)" So I did. She screamed louder. So I said, "Go on then. Hit me. I'd like to see you try." She seemed shocked from my response. She turned to the teacher, and asked that I'd be removed, like a bag of rubbish left on the doorstep. Eventually I left, but clouded with rage. I am like a fajita (sp?), cool on the outside, hot and filled with anger on the inside. Thankfully, the throwing of the things had ceased to be.

In conclusion: on Monday, I'm going to the head of year, and claim they were bullying. Well, after all, they WERE bullying.

Oh dear. It's time to use this angry (yet suprisingly sexy... eep! I didn't say that!!) picture of Brain. I'm in history right now, but I must release my anger.

The school magazine was out today, hooray. And as I have said, Vampeep was going to be in it. And he was! Yay!!!!!! But I opened the little booklet which had the comics in (it was a christmas special), and I saw the display page for Vampeep. It said, and I quote:

"Story by Emily Daniels and Hannah Wray
Art by Hannah Wray"

In case you didn't know, I am Emily Daniels (AAAAAAARGH!!! THE EVIL NAME!!!!!) and I created Vampeep, down to every last bit of it. I submitted it, made the story, drew it, etc etc. Heck, I even SAID it was by me!!!!! But why did they put Hannah Wray?? She went with me, but it doen't mean she made it. She even said herself it was by me. I was utterly insulted, and very very VERY angry. I went around telling people it was by me. I didn't want everyone to think Vampeep is by Hannah. If anyone is to blame for Vampeep, it should be ME!!!!!

So, what am I to do? I will ask for an apology from them when I submit my next comic. I hope they are sincerley sorry for the...ahem...mix up, even though I don't know HOW they made that mistake. Heigh ho. I must go now, I have a feeling Mrs Eaves is going to look at what everyone's doing in a mo.

I was going to write this all yesterday, but had no time. So I'll write it now.

Well, yesterday was the time we (in orchestra) were all dreading. The concert. Our teacher is, as I've pointed out, barmy, and wanted us to dress up again. So I went as the Phantom of the Opera, or, at least, was MEANT to be the Phantom of the Opera; I looked more like Zorro.

When I got there, the leader saw me, and decided to talk to me. It went from a simple, "Hello, how are you?" to a chatty non-stop conversation. So this conversation went ON and ON and ON........I thought it would never end. But she then said, "Could you put my violin in my chair for me?" and dashed off. She said she had to do fanfare, which I thought was first, and then starters, then middles. So I put her violin by her violin case. Soon I was told to get my butt on stage, as middles were soon starting. So I went on stage, and took my place. I forgot about her violin, as I thought she didn't need it then. I descovered middles, starters, and fanfare were on the stage at the same time. Later, just before the fanfare started, she ran to me and asked where her violin was. I explained I did as she asked, and put it on her chair. "IS IT STILL IN THERE???" she screeched (referring to the changing rooms). No, wait, 'screeched' is not the best word to use. Roared? Meowed? I don't know. But anyway, she ran back. I think I saw her crying. From then on, I felt like there was a 'special' spotlight on me. Hold on...why didn't SHE put the violin in her chair herself?? Oh, life has its little mysteries (or miseries, as the case may be).

So. We played the 2 pieces we had to play. Only 2 this year, only 2. And there was no point playing them, as the youth orchestra (the 'big' orchestra) were going to play those same 2 pieces anyway, but better. For those who weren't wondering, they were The Phantom of the Opera, and Lord of the Rings. I don't really know what song from LOTR, as it was a mixture of 2, clumped together in 5 minutes and had massive bits hacked out to make it last 1 page. We came off. I then found our beloved leader, who I felt had let down (as if she was a balloon anyway. Joke, joke.), in the changing rooms. Crying. I thought it was because of me, but to my relief it was because she lost her clarinet. I guess it was a bad day for her.

(sings in tune of 'Once in Royal David's city') I came down to sit with the audience, and I was bored out of my mind. They played music, horrible to hear, but the old people liked it lots. Why was I subject to this? I was really bored to bits.

OK, that was random. But I was bored then, and I am now. But my Dad rescued me, and gave me some paper and a pen. And I started drawing. I drew 3 pictures, but that one up there ^ was my favorite doodle. It's of the mask I wore. Shame the paper was one of those note pads advertising acid.

At the interval, I found a door at the side. I smiled; I love exploring. I went in there, still dressed as the Phantom, and went and looked 'round. There was not much TO see, just doors, and stairs...but I had fun running around. I noticed the time, and had to get back. But I decided I would go back there another time. And I will! It was fun. I found some long winding stairs I want to go up. But anyway, I went back, and 2 ice-cream people (they have excellent toffee-flavored ice-cream, by the way) saw me there. They didn't ask about my presence, just looked scared and said "It's the Phantom!!"

At least they didn't think I was Zorro.

I don't know how to rate today.

Well, in PE, as you know we're doing badminton, the 'teacher' decided to give us a warm up. This was to run to the net, and back again. For no reason. So I did, and most people ran back with their back to the net. But not me :) I was clever and ran backwards. Then when we did this useless exercise, she said a few people's names, but not mine. And then followed by "Well done". She then explained that they were so excellent, they ran backwards. Then instructed the rest of us (including me) had to do it again. I refused to. All the while, I was shouting that I DID go backwards. After the second pointless excercise, I asked her in person what I *supposedly* did wrong. I then corrected her. Then she went b*tching about her blindness, making it clearly obvious she hates every inch of me. It's her loss. I don't know what she lost, but it's her loss. With a b*ching like that, I would've had tears welling up in my eyes (note to Nikki, DON'T watch my eyes when I'm told off), but nothing came. I guess I'm now immune to it. From her, anyway.

Well, I was running to get to my bus before the seats ran out, and managed to get there on time. I was sitting there minding my own business. But then, I looked on my hand, and found something written there. It was a note reminding me to give my Pinky and the Brain video to Charlie to record. But I forgot to read my reminder. How forgetful could you get? Well, I was panicking for a few seconds, when Jenni walked past. GREAT I thought. I ran from the bus to her, and pleaded she give it to Charlie. I hope she did. I really do.

Well, I came home, and was, yet again, minding my own business. Then my Dad slipped a letter to me. It was addressed, well, to me. I recognised it immediately. It had PETA stamped on it.I ripped it open, and out slid some stickers. It had a cartoon chick on it and "I am not a nugget" by it. Also, I found a leaflet with it. I need to say to you, I was told it was for kids. So I opened it up, and, well...let's just say the word "sh*t" was repeated 5 times.

Well, I must go now, for no reason.

I'm feeling in a particullarly (sp?) dark mood today. It was all because of Kimmi, the girl that everyone likes.

Today, I was feeling mental as usual, and I was enjoying the noise of people laughing at me as I was juggling hi-lighter pens. I got bored of this eventually, and decided to make the radio 'pretty' by coloring it in using the hi-lighters. After coloring the depressing metallic grey electronical equipment into a yellow and orange happy... uh... radio. I was proud of what I had done. But Kimmi comes along, and gasps. She rubs it all out, and says that I should never do that again, unless I consault the class first. I explained it was a suprise, and so I couldn't consault the class. She then tutted her tongue, and went to check if she'd missed any of the 'mess'. I was hurt. I don't know why, I was just hurt. My eyes filled with tears, and I had to go to the bathrooms. I didn't cry, I have no use for crying, but I remained in a dark and depressive mood for the rest of the day.

Then, in PE, as we were trudging down towards the sports centre, I rushed ahead. I always try to rush, as I take flippin' ages to change my shoes (they make us change our shoes into trainers so we don't get the sports centre muddy). So I rushed ahead, covered myself in needles as I ran through a tree (a pine tree, good for me), and tried to get there first, so I didn't get to be last. Suddenly, I hear behind me...laughter? Why laughter? Whose laughter? I turn around, and see two plastics laughing at me. Probably at my legs. It's not my fault all the fat in my body's stored in my legs. My body would be near perfect, if it wasn't for the imbalance in those USELESS FLIPPIN' THINGS!!!!! So I was hurt again.

Moral of today: If someone hurts you, and you do something back to them (i.e. revenge, ignore them, etc), and they say sorry, they do not regret hurting you. They regret doing it to your face.

Now excuse me while I go self-harm.

ARGH. Christmas again. I hate it so much...wait, I've already complained on this blog.

Anyways, today was my skool's christmas fair. But it was NOT fair (ha, ha). When I got in, I was immediately swept up by the sea of old ladies and young teenagers with nothing better to do with their sorry lives. I looked back at the exit, but my Mom had already been taken. She was nowhere to be seen. So I snooped around my skool, dodging anyone who seemed to be getting too close for my liking. I had a bottle of Blackcurrant juice with me, so I held it up like a knife, like in the pic up there of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Yes, reader, I am fond of Jhonen Vasquez's work. Especially JTHM and Invader ZIM. Let's not go into that subject.

I went over to my friend's stall. I would have helped out if I knew I was allowed to come (orchestra, remember?), so they were suprised to see me. Their stall was of Malaysian gifts, as my friend Jade is Malaysian. Anyway, I went over to see the queer little objects laid out before me. Then I found I was trapped. Old ladies with zimoframes passed me very slowly down the narrow corridor. Not only that, but there were fat ladies bending over to their little toddlers right next to me. It was not a very good sight, believe me. I literally was standing in the same place for 5 minutes. I was so afraid...I'm claustrophobic, so I felt dizzy and sick, and most of all, scared out of my wits. I managed to squeeze past the slow-minded crowd, and endeavoured my escape. But all the while, squeeky-voiced girls jumped in front of me and asked if I wanted my face painted. I even screamed at one girl. I didn't like the way she cornered me. I almost used my bottle. (Feel my wrath.)

I eventually found my Mom. I was hungry, so she bought me a hotdog. But I couldn't eat it, I felt so ill. I wanted to crawl behind the vending machines and curl up (and die?). But despite my pale face and the way I shook and held my bottle in a defensive position, people still seemed to want to crush my little body. So I bought a small pink elephant to bring me luck (pink elephants are apparently lucky). And as luck would have it, I managed to keep my hotdog and cake down.

Moreover, Becky's recording failed. Dang.