*RAWR*
Oh! I'm told I was in the newspaper for that interview I did, the Arizona Republic too, that's the state's main newspaper. I didn't actually see it though. I think my name was just mentioned in a list of kids who were at the interview. I checked and it wasn't on line but good times.
On Monday (first day back from spring break) my music teacher asked us what we thought Elvis was thinking about when he wrote "Hound Dog" and I said "nothing because he didn't write any of his songs and that one was written by some fat Black lady named 'Big Momma' something" He looked it up and of course I was right so he gave me a plastic dinosaur. In my next period I kept running up to people with it in my hand going "Rawr!"
Tuesday was another day that nothing happened, I think.
Today at lunch this girl named Sasha (the one you talked to on the computer, Steve) was being random and she threw a corn dog stick and me and I yelled "MOTHER FUCKER" really loud. After getting that response she threw more and I continued to yell variations on my origional statement. Then she ran out of corn dog sticks and thew a tatter tot at me but I didn't mind that, why would I?
After that I went to music class again where I was talking to this French kid named David who wears the same pair of pants everyday and just switched into that class. He was talking about how he's from Borodeaux, which is a big ass city in France, and how he's super bored where we are too. He said he might even go to this jazz concert the teacher offered us extra credit to go to. Now I think I might too. I was also wearing my Pink Floyd t-shirt and we made fun of this red neck girl who didn't know who they were.
Finally, when I got home there was a UPS thing on the door. My mom went to the Grand Canyon with some friends of hers from Bradenton who are staying with us so I figured I would just leave it there and tell her I didn't see it when they got back. Then I noticed the sender was "Good Times." I got excited and ran to the apartment complex's office, they were close until 3. I came back at 3 and got the box. I then ran home to learn that the company that makes Tae Bo is called Good Times.
Now I'm sure that's got to be everything. Good times, people.
On Monday (first day back from spring break) my music teacher asked us what we thought Elvis was thinking about when he wrote "Hound Dog" and I said "nothing because he didn't write any of his songs and that one was written by some fat Black lady named 'Big Momma' something" He looked it up and of course I was right so he gave me a plastic dinosaur. In my next period I kept running up to people with it in my hand going "Rawr!"
Tuesday was another day that nothing happened, I think.
Today at lunch this girl named Sasha (the one you talked to on the computer, Steve) was being random and she threw a corn dog stick and me and I yelled "MOTHER FUCKER" really loud. After getting that response she threw more and I continued to yell variations on my origional statement. Then she ran out of corn dog sticks and thew a tatter tot at me but I didn't mind that, why would I?
After that I went to music class again where I was talking to this French kid named David who wears the same pair of pants everyday and just switched into that class. He was talking about how he's from Borodeaux, which is a big ass city in France, and how he's super bored where we are too. He said he might even go to this jazz concert the teacher offered us extra credit to go to. Now I think I might too. I was also wearing my Pink Floyd t-shirt and we made fun of this red neck girl who didn't know who they were.
Finally, when I got home there was a UPS thing on the door. My mom went to the Grand Canyon with some friends of hers from Bradenton who are staying with us so I figured I would just leave it there and tell her I didn't see it when they got back. Then I noticed the sender was "Good Times." I got excited and ran to the apartment complex's office, they were close until 3. I came back at 3 and got the box. I then ran home to learn that the company that makes Tae Bo is called Good Times.
Now I'm sure that's got to be everything. Good times, people.