So, this is what it feels like to have a diary. Well Diary, it’s nice to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself- wait, I got some corn stuck in my teeth. Ok, now it’s better. I am Jada Neumann (the gorgeous lady on the cover ), and I am 198 months (that’s 16 ½ yrs) old and a sophomore at Tim Burr High School. However, the last day of school is soon, so I won’t be a 10th grader for long :D. I have a younger brother and- OWW! What the heck? I’ve just started writing and now my hand is already cramping!? I’ve gotta get used to this- ow ow ow ow- why do I keep writing!?
Ok, much better. Dunking a cramped hand into fermented lizard tears really does wonders. Anyways, diary, I hope you and I can have great memories together. Although, I sometimes have anger problems, and might throw you out of pure frustration at my door, but I hope that doesn’t hinder our friendship.
Well, dad’s calling me for breakfast. Huh? It’s 8 p.m and too late for breakfast, you say? What planet do you live on, Diary? You’re weird… Well, for now, I bid you farewell.
Jada Neumann (see? That’s my signature!!)
June 7th, 2012
Well, the last day of school for me didn’t go out quite as planned, diary. First this hobo zombie attempted to eat off my foot, but luckily Mrs. Bleeben-Blorfen’s (our old, cranky neighbor who has pretty much a freakin’ petting zoo in her house) cat, Dweebloaf, was there, so I picked up the mangy cat and batted the hobo off of me so I could get to school.
When I finally got to school, my best friend, Rosa Sabella, greeted me with a slap to the face with a fish. She always greets me like that, and I’ve gotten used to it. Then I saw the hunk of the school, Ryan. Sighhh…. He’s so dreamy. Too bad he’s taken by Euryale, the school snob. I don’t know what he sees in her, except for stone (she’s a gorgon). And for my first class, Mrs. Snood gave us a pop quiz! A POP QUIZ! What’s wrong with that lady?? I’m just glad I won’t be having her classes anymore. I don’t even know why I took DNA Splicing class anyways this year.
After that class, and a few others, we had lunch for the last time. The seniors decided to have a surprise for the last day of school and started a food fight. I got some pudding in my hair, some kind of vegetable (pizza?) all over my new shirt, and mystery meat-I swore it blinked at me- in my shoes. Oh well, good thing the laundry room is right next to the cafeteria.
When the bell rang, I got trampled by kids and even teachers. Let me give you some advice: When there’s a 300 pound teacher with high heels stampeding towards the teachers’ lounge in your direction, get out of the way. That’s pretty much that for today, Diary. Oh yea, and some guy on a bike rode over my sandwich.
June 11th, 2012
‘Kay, well, this summer break so far sucks donkey hooves. First, I got scrambled eggs in ziploc bags thrown at my car, then the neighborhood creeper’s ostrich (don’t ask me where he got it) chased after me when I was trying to get to an interview, then when I got to the interview, it turns out my interviewer was a gorilla. And I didn’t get the job. What job was I applying for, you ask? Obviously McDonalds’ bathroom scrubber, but apparently I wasn’t high-class enough for them. Stupid simians. At least morning was normal.
Or as normal as it gets in this freaking house.
My little brother, who’s 14, told me today he’s going to move to Jupiter when he grows up. Normally I would face palm, but he’s still in 2nd grade. I asked him why Jupiter and he threw his Buzz Lightyear doll (sorry, action figure) at my ear. Thankfully, I dodged it, but then he was about to throw another of his toys at me when Mom came in, smacked her long neck on the ceiling and started speaking Portuguese. You see, Mom is really a giraffe who was brought to America from South Korea, but she insisted on speaking Portuguese. Dad’s a zookeeper, and that’s how they met.
Anyways, Dad wasn’t home yet, but Mom made us her special waffles. She’s got magical spit that smells like pomegranate and newborn infants, so instead of syrup, she uses her spit. My brother, Herbert, screamed for no reason, causing my mom to smack her head again on the low ceiling and yell, “Que baruhlo é esse? Onde está minha escova de dentes (What is that noise? Where is my toothbrush)??”
“Mom, shut up, it was Herb again, and you left your toothbrush in the garage,” I said, bored, while munching on a waffle. Not much else happened after that, I just listened to music, threw some meatballs, spied on Mrs. Bleeben-Blorfen, and screamed at the clouds for hiding the sun, because all the sun wanted to do was rehearse his puppet show. Meanie clouds.
More later Diary,
June 16th, 2012
This day was kind of going slow, so I decided to take a walk around town. Needless to say, I didn’t get very far because the neighborhood creeper was following me and tried to cut off my hair. Good thing I got away before he could.
After that predicament, I drove to Subwack (the best place to get both regular and inside-out subs) to get an application form. Everything was kinda quiet, and, for once in my life, peaceful. Be that as it may, right after the cashier lady handed me the papers, a man in the line went ballistic because they were out of black olives. He started shaking a random lady’s shoulders and screaming in her face. Poor lady, she looked so traumatized. He then proceeded to throw furniture around and attempted to swallow the cash register whole. Before I had a chance to get a chair mark across my face, I burst out of the place with the papers, hopped in my car, and drove away from the madhouse.
Dad was overjoyed to find that I had application forms in my hand, but I secretly think he wanted me to get a job and to get out of the house as soon as possible. I think he’s still mad at me for that incident a few months ago, when I drove his car in the community pool and then trashed the bathroom with faucet manuals and hot cocoa. Why, Diary? It’s a long story. However, today has been a long day, and I’ll write more tomorrow.
June 17th, 2012
Today, I finally filled out the application forms in my room while listening to my favorite band, the Bleeding Teletubbies Orchestra. They’re a complicated band complied of screamo and little kids’ songs. I was about to put the papers in a safe spot, Herbert bursts in my room, spewing gibberish from his mouth. He normally does stuff like this, but this time I spotted something in his arms (which he was flailing around).
“Herb, what is that you’re holding?” I say cautiously, gripping the forms like a lifeline. He spat out more incomprehensive words, raised his hands like a mad man, and that’s when I saw what he was holding.
Water balloons filled with motor oil.
“NOOOOOO-!!” I scream in an attempt to dive behind my bed in slow motion, but unfortunately, I am too late. Diving in slow motion doesn’t help when everything else is at regular speed, although it does make it more dramatic. He spots my papers and mercilessly hurls the balloons at me while bellowing out his war cry.
My futile attempt to protect the papers wasn’t enough. The oil water balloons drench both me and my precious forms. Herbert stands before me and yells again before smacking his head on the door trying to run out of my room. I look down at my now soaked papers and cry out, grieving over my loss.
A few seconds later, I stand up, dry my hair off, and shrug. Forget it, I think, I’ll just go back to Subwack and get more. As if on cue, the TV magically turns on on its own, leaving me in wonder. Oh wait, I just sat on the remote… never mind. Anyways, the TV reporter, Penny Dimes, was saying that that crazy black olives guy was still there, and would not leave until he got his black olives. Unfortunately, Subwack won’t be getting another shipment of said olives until next week.
I had to get those application forms today! Why, Diary? Well, you ask too many questions, however, I’ll tell you anyways. I’ll only be having my car for today, because tomorrow I’m letting my friend Meagan borrow it for her Weightlifting Club, which is at the YMCA, right next to the hospital. And I can’t get this oil off me because Mom’s in the shower, and she takes like 5 hours to finish.
I guess I’ll just have to sum up enough courage and get those new forms.
Still covered in oil, I dashed down the first 4 flights of stairs and slid down the last 2. I heroically grab my Hello Kitty hat from the coat rack and put it on my head.
“Jada, onde você vai (Jada, where are you going)?” Mom asked while chomping on her mini baobab tree that we planted in the middle of the dining room. I skidded to a stop, took a deep breath, and briskly explained my story to her. She gave me a quizzical look (I love that word) before nodding and saying, “OK, divirta-se! Diga ao seu irmão que seu despertador explodiu novamente (OK, have fun! Tell your brother that his alarm clock exploded again).”
“I’ll make sure to tell him that, Mom,” I yelled back as I jumped out the window. Turns out, I forgot to tell him. Oh well, he’ll notice soon. Anyways, I valiantly sprinted to my car (Did I mention it was a 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air?) before tripping on a snail and tumbled, causing me to do a belly flop on the driveway and two of my teeth to fall out. Eh, I didn’t need those teeth anyways. I pick myself up and get in the car, slam my car keys in it, and drove off towards the Subwack.
Lucky for me it just HAD to be rush hour. Since I’m a rather impatient person, I revved up my vehicle and flew over the others while grinning at their awe-struck faces. Actually, that’s what I’d like to happen, but since Herbert vomited all over my giant car spring, I have to go get it replaced. So I sat in the traffic, silently fuming to myself.
When I finally got to Subwack a few hours later, I saw the crazed man still there, clutching a kid’s toy and sobbing uncontrollably. I managed to sneak past the police outside the restaurant and through the doors. While the weirdo was having his meltdown, I stealthily creep towards the back, where I saw the application forms. Unfortunately for me, the oil I was drenched in left black footprints upon the floor, (unbeknownst to me at the time) effiectively blowing my cover. Right as I reach for the papers, I hear a sniffle and a voice say in disbelief, “Is that a-a-a giant black olive??”
I whirl my head around and see the demented guy stare at me with wide eyes. I look down at myself and realized that I really do look like a giant black olive. Shower time for me tonight, Stinky. He has this freaky, intimidating look in his eyes as he lunges at me.
To my luck, I realize have enough time to snatch the forms, but before I can and haul my butt out of there, I feel deadweight on top of me as I fall to the ground. The man is shrieking at me, and I try to get him off of me when I see a red food tray on the ground next to me and I suddenly get a flashback of when that zombie hobo tried to eat my foot (first entry, for those sneaky people who managed to get ahold of my Diary). I imagine the tray as Dweebloaf as I repeatedly smack the tray on his head whilst screaming, “Get offa me!”
I think the tray smacking thinger worked, because the man slumped over, unconscious. At least I hoped he was only unconscious. I crawl away and stagger to my feet, clenching the forms in one hand and blindly running to the exit. I got oil in my eyes (curse you, Herbert), resulting in me flying into the window face first. I shook my head and out of the corner of my eye caught a glimpse of the man getting up while holding his head in pain.
He yelled something I couldn’t understand, because I was still dizzy from my window smashing face predicament, yet I found the door and ran for my life. I ran past the confused police, splattering oil all over their uniforms as I tore past them in a giant, black blur. I look back at me to see the crazy guy pursuing me, holding a spork in each hand and one in his hair. I’m not familiar with this part of the town, so I dashed blindly through the streets, the black olive dude hot on my trail. I still couldn’t see very well, and I think I accidentially kicked some old lady’s dog. All I could feel and hear was a heavy something on my foot and a yelp, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Trying to slow down my harasser, I knock down a mailbox. However, to my horror, he flips over it like some kind of ninja and starts running even faster.
“What the heck? You were supposed to fall down!” I yell at him while attempting to get out of some bushes I carelessly ran into. I faintly hear him mumble something about ninja training classes before lunging at me again. Wow, aren’t I lucky today?
As he pounces at me, I realized I still have my trusty spare tire in my pocket. Why do I have this, Diary? Well, that’s none of your business, and stop being so nosy. I whip it out and throw it at him, cogently pummeling him square in his large nose. I high-five myself and congratulate myself for my small victory, then I get up and run towards this giant building.
Inside the building, I walk down a hall that looks all rusty and horror-movie like. I look through the window of one of the doors and see a blond man biting down on a plush elephant toy while singing the ABC’s. Wait a minute, are those rooms padded? I think to myself.
Before I can think any further, I hear an echo of a pair of feet stomping my ways. I turn to see that man again, panting and with a giant tire mark across his face (Now you know why I have the tire, Diary). Without hesitating, I sprint down the halls and find an empty padded room. I open the door just as the man rounds the corner. He slams his face into the door as I shove him in and shut the door, locking the many locks on it. I smirk, triumphant, as I head home.
By the time I get home, I feel exhausted, yet like a hero, you know the ones in those fairy tale stories, if you count the olive dude as an evil dragon or something like that. My dad has the opposite feeling for me, though. Dad has an angry look on face as he says, “Jada!! You missed dinner again! You’re grounded!”
I look down and see a bucket of worms. Aw man, they’re my favorite too! Tired and dejected, I take the giant rope in my hand and climb back up to my room, where I started writing about this horribly long day.
Until something else happens Diary,
June 20th, 2012
A bunch of stuff happened, but I’m kinda tired, given the fact it’s midnight, so I can’t really go into detail. Let’s see… what to start with? Well, I got my car back, but it had a Meagan-sized dent in the bottom of it, so I went to the auto shop to get it fixed.
I pulled in front of the shop and called one of the mechanics over. He came over to where I was, but he was wearing some kind of capybara outfit. He had a pocket airhorn in one hand (er, webbed foot) and a box of popsicle sticks in the other. I heard him say something to me, but I think it was in Danish. I looked over his shoulder and found out I read the sign wrong. Oops… Apparently it was the Pineapple and Vomiting Parrots shop(which was having a Airhorn Competition), not Brad’s Auto and Body. I said sorry to the man for the misunderstanding and drove away.
After that happened, I finally found the right place. I saw my favorite mechanic, Vincent, by the entrance. He had his vocal cords partially eaten by a llama when he was a kid, so all he can do is scream. He’s still my favorite though.
“Hey Vincent, how’s it going?” I said casually as I stepped out of my car.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHH!!” He screamed back.
“Sounds good, anything special you’re doing for summer?” I asked.
“EEEYAARRGGGG!!” He replied.
“Wow. Fiji, eh? Lucky man. Hey buddy, do you think you can try that one thing you do with some cars? You know, the one treatment thing that makes it all shiny and stuff? What was it called?”
“Yeah, that one. Thanks Vince, you’re a real pal.”
“ARRRRRRRRYYERRGG” Was his final response as he walked to my car and started throwing chopped bananas at the hood of my car. I get kinda bored watching people work on cars, so I left to pass the time.
I knew that the mall was a few blocks away, so I decided to walk there. I walked a block, but a bearded lady ambushed me and forced me to run the rest of the way. Freakin’ bearded ladies, they were always a problem in this town. When I got there, I shopped a little and got some cool knick knacks. My favorite one is a mini sculpture of a winged caribou eating oysters.
I got my car back, all dent free and shiny-like. I think I ran over some kid though on my way home. After that, I looked for a nice outfit for my interview. I couldn’t find any, so I’ll try again later.
June 25th, 2012
I found a nice suit and did go to my interview. How did it go? Well, long story short, I ended up accidentially vomiting on the interviewer (who was human) after seeing his pet tarantula om-nom-noming on the pickles, but I still got the job… somehow.
After that, we celebrated our favorite holiday, Derp Around Town Like a Random Animal Day. You’ve never heard of that holiday before? What’s wrong with you?? It’s like, the BEST holiday ever. Last year, I was a horse. The year before that, I was a ring-tailed lemur. It was so fun to climb trees and holler at those who passed by my tree. Sigh… good times. I’m thinking of what to be now. Oh I know! This year, I’ll derp around as a duck that can’t shut up.
I got my bills and webbed feet on and I’m ready to go. Oh yeah, Dad is going as a cow today and Herbert is going as his favorite animal, a poison dart frog. He’s been dressed as that frog for the past 3 years already. Oh well. We DID buy that poison tank that lasts 5 years, so I guess that makes sense. Mom never does this holiday because she’s already an animal, so she stays home to make us dinner afterwards.
I’ll write more later, Diary. For now, I’m gonna go celebrate. Wish me luck. Quack quack.
Wow, that was even funner than last year! Much better than being a horse. I almost got ran over by some saucy looking guy in a car with a burning hatred for ducks, but other than that, it was fun. Dad let me buy a megaphone (I call it Peggy) and I was quacking all over town. It only started getting boring when we had to go. Blegh. I already miss swimming in the pond and quacking loudly with Peggy at people eating in restaurants.
I also saw Rosa, too! She was dressed up as a cow and bull with her boyfriend. They seemed to be in some kind of china shop when I met up with them. What else? Oh yeah, then as we were heading home, some old guy dressed as a bunny attempted to take over the world. Me, Herbert , and Dad teamed up and saved the day. Nothin’ special. We got the key to the city and a coupon for Best Buy.
Can’t think of any more closings,
June 28th, 2012
So, It was my first day of work today (count with me: 1, um….. never mind) and I think I did a good job. I got my uniform (a bright orange leotard and leggings with a green apron), which looked splendidly on me by the way, and my first task was to clean the men’s bathroom. I grabbed my mop and was about to confidently walk in, when this really fat guy walked out of there while belching. A few seconds later, this horrid odor started to emenate from both the bathroom and the man. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so confident.
After 30 traumatizing minutes, I ran out of there and into fresh air. Man, was I glad to be out of there. Afterwards, I was assigned to be the cashier for a few hours, since the main cashier freaked out and jumped out the drive-thru window after she saw a customer wearing her worst fear: a banshee outfit. They needed to get a replacement but said person was running late because some giant frog decided to try and cross the road, but didn’t make it.
Being a cashier is fun! I got to see all kinds of weird people. One time, this weird, crazy old cat lady brang in, like, 5 of her cats (they all looked unamused) and told me she wanted extra pickles for her “darlings”. Poor cats, I bet they don’t even like pickles. Then guess who I saw? That’s right, the crazy man who freaked because of no black olives. I started to get nervous, but fortunately, he didn’t recognize me without black oil all over my body and we actually had enough black olives this time. Phew! Close call.
After my first day at work, I went home. I felt great! I happily drove home. Nothing could possibly go wrong! When I pulled into the driveway, Mom strode out and said, “Jada! É aquele dia de hoje, lavar Dia da mãe Cascos e é a sua vez (Jada! It's that day today, Washing Mom's Hooves Day and it's your turn!)!”
Hugs and kisses and all that crud,
© Copyright 2017 MaryAckens. All rights reserved.
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