You and your group of nerds fall into a pit and it's full of dynamite and you blow up. The End.

The best person I know is Myself.

I'm having a seriously hard time getting used to the fact that summer is over and I have to get out of bed every morning to go to school.

I labored for eight years thinking that I was writing a book for adults that was a nostalgic look back on childhood. Then my publisher informed me I'd written a children's book.

The only reason I get out of bed at all on weekends is because eventually I can't stand the taste of my own breath any more.

First of all, let me get this straight: This is a JOURNAL, not a diary. I know what it says on the cover, but when Mom went out to buy this thing I SPECIFICALLY told her to get one that didn't say 'diary' on it.

You and your group of nerds fall into a pit and it's full of dynamite and you blow up. The End.