My ego is late

But as some people will insist, better late than never.

I'm 17 now and my mom made cupcakes.

That's not my motto, though. My motto is, HA! It's statistically likely that I'm younger than you!! Suckers.

All the children sing!

You know, the first favorite song I ever had was "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill", by The Beatles. It's from the White Album. I remember I loved it.

...my dad taught me well (thanks, Dad!).

it's. a. PEA!!!

In my elective Biology class, there's about 20 people, and we usually only take up four tables because not everyone shows up.

I always sit at a table with two other guys. I don't know what they're called- in fact, all I remember about their names is that one of them starts with a J, so instead I call them Metal Guys because J has a Metallica T-shirt. I mean, I call them Metal Guys in my head. When I want to actually talk to them, I say "Hey", which serves both as a greeting and as a name-substitute ("Hey, how many mice are you going to use?").

So I'd sit at their table and do experiments with them, and all was well and dandy, until this foxy girl decided she likes Metal Guy: Not J, and sits between them and me, leaving me all by myself at the end of the table. I mean, M. Guys aren't my friends or anything, so it's not like she's usurping them (can you steal fellow table-sitting folk?), but she'll lean against the table with her back towards me to get a better look at Metal Guy: Not J, effectively cutting me off from all communication.

On Friday we were arranged at the table as previously described. The teacher gave us these magazines, two per table, to look at the articles in them and see how the scientific method was used for reporting experiments. Foxy was absorbed in witty banter or something with Not J, so I paged through it and found an article about peas. Foxy turned around once, long enough to notice that the magazine was in English, and say,

"You speak English, right? Well, good thing you're on my team, then! Ha ha! (We're a team?)"

And she patted me heartily on the back with a hand covered in fake cheese, from eating cheese-covered popcorn. The kind that smells like feet. I was wearing my Diablo Swing Orchestra T-shirt, and she got it all cheesy. That's one of the main reasons I don't like her. I just can't forgive that.

I don't know where she's going after she dies, but it ain't up.

Oh, yeah, so I was reading about peas while she foxed around. Remember that the ensuing conversation takes place entirely in Spanish:

TEACHER: So now that you've had a look at some articles, let's talk about them. You (Metal Guys), what biological material does the article you chose use?

METAL GUY: Uh, it's about (mice or horses or something. You can't expect me to remember such details).

TEACHER: [At Foxy & me] And what's yours about?

FOXY (looking at the title of the article): Uh, Pisum sativum.

TEACHER: Uh-huh. And what's the common name?

ME: Pea.

FOXY: Uuuuh...

METAL GUY: Hmmm....

ME: Pea. It's a pea. It says "Pea" here.

TEACHER: ...common name?

FOXY: It's, uh... uh..

METAL GUY: It should be here... somewhere...

ME: Pea! Pisum sativum is a pea!

FOXY: It's, uh... I can't find it.

ME: PEA!!! It's a PEA!!

FOXY: Oh, it says "Pea" here. I think that's it. What's that mean in Spanish?

ME: Pea! It's a pea!

METAL GUY: Uh, I don't know.

FOXY: Oh, I think it's... a pea?

TEACHER: Yes, good. It's a pea.


Um, hello?