Chicks dig a dude who’s sporting the latest eggplant turtleneck styles.

There are really no guidelines whatsoever, because this is the kind of thing that only happens to ME.

Finally the kitchen clock said 5:17. It was time to roll out. I shouted for my mom, woke Jeffrey up, ran upstairs, changed into my concert clothes, put on my shoes, and was standing by the door to the garage by 5:19—chanting “Let’s go! Come on!” (Feel free to try that at home, by the way; moms love it!)

But nobody ever tells you in advance when you should concentrate on the good times-that's why you're supposed to do it every day.

I tucked him in with his stuffed-animal pet dog—cleverly named Dog-Dog, by the way.

(Yes teenage boys who are fine always cry on their mothers’ shoulders until they leave a snot trail.)

He also said that if anyone did anything to mess up the rest of the testing, he was going to call 911 personally. Yeah, like that wouldn't make it into the nightly news again: WHEELCHAIR-BOUND CANCER PATIENT ARRESTED FOR FREE SPEECH.