Blog of a Bully (7 page)

Friday, December 10th, 2010

7:40 p.m.

Guts

I don’t know what came over me or what is wrong with me. I woke up this morning and decided I was going to ask Angela if she wanted to go see a movie with me. Was it the one small hair I found on my chest today that gave me the courage to ask Angela out? Or was it most likely the subconscious desire to be laughed at and possibly humiliated? Either way, I plead the fifth and claim that I was not in my right mind.

I went to school feeling pretty confident in my ability to confront a girl. I went right up to Angela and said, “Angela you’re pretty and cool; one might even call you pretty cool. Would you like to go to the movies with me tonight?” She was shaking her head no halfway through my sentence, and when I finished she gave an immediate and demanding NO and walked off.

 

Did that suck? YES. Was I dumb enough to ask her in public, assuming she would say yes? YES. Did the whole school get to see my rejection? YES.

School went on, and I was made fun of in every class. I thought I was the school bully. Am I supposed to be made fun of? NO. In between classes as I was walking around, I saw Timid Tim, the kid who messed up the paper I forced him to write for me. He was snickering at me, so I went over there and gave that little punk a wedgy. I went easy on the kid and didn’t pull as hard as I could have, but the whole school saw, and I was feared again. No one dared to make fun of me for getting rejected by Angela. I don’t like violence, and I don’t like rejection. What a horrible day.

It doesn’t matter. Who is without a flaw?

Definitely not me. I let some colors show that I’m not proud of. I really can’t believe what I did. I stooped to new lows today.

Tuesday, December 14
^th
, 2010

5:15 p.m.

Moms Know Best

I must have a lot of mothers reading this blog, because with your comments, you guys really made me feel like the scum of the earth for what I did. I agree with you. But I can’t think right now about what I should do. So hopefully over the Christmas break I will figure this entire thing out. I’m still sad about what I did and still upset that I was rejected by Angela, and on top of all this, I found out according to my current report card, I’m now a C student. My parents are going to kill me.

If you have any suggestions that are actually helpful, then please share. I’m making this short. I have homework to do.

The greatest danger could be your stupidity.

Man, even the fortune cookies are mad at me.

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010

11:56 a.m.

Winter Break

My break has started off with a real bang. I was grounded for my bad grades. Not only that, but I was lectured by my parents for about an hour in their room about my grades, my attitude, why I’ve been getting in trouble at school, and how I use to be such a nice boy. They told me to have Donald over for a sleepover so he can be a good influence on me. Shows how much they know; he’s the one who got me in this mess. So I am grounded from video games and computer games. No biggie; I hardly play. Again, shows how much they know.

I had Donald over, and he was more annoyed with Jessica than I was. Anything we did, she wanted to join, and if she cried enough then Mom would force us to let her play with us. I’m use to it, but Donald couldn’t stand her. We stayed up late watching a scary movie on the computer. It wasn’t that scary, but Donald sure jumped a few times. We wanted to pull a prank on Jessica, but we couldn’t think of a good one that wasn’t too mean. So we let that one pass, but in the morning I woke myself by smashing shaving cream in my face. I had an itchy nose. Yes, one of the pranks we were going to pull on Jessica, Donald pulled on me instead. He sprayed shaving cream in my hand and with a feather, he tickled my nose. This was done at four in the morning; Donald must be a light sleeper.

 

You guys have given me some good ideas. One person said I should write an apology letter and read it to the school over the loud speaker. Another person said I should do more positive things with my time, like have a school car wash. But the winner of the week is the person who told me to make cookies for the whole school. That is doable, but what made the comment a winner is that the individual explained I should make the cookies with a few extra dashes of love. Brilliant—I love it. I’ll spread the baked love at school.

Much more grows in the garden than that which is planted there.

I hope it’s a garden of love, because I need some flour made of love for my cookies. After all, flour made of love doesn’t grow on trees.

Saturday, December 25th, 2010

9:19 p.m.

Christmas

Christmastime, what a wonderful nightmare. Trips to the store to look at last-minute toys, followed by dragging a screaming Jessica out of a store because some dumb toy. And if we go in another store, she will find another toy to cry about as if she is trying to scream her Christmas list all the way to the North Pole.

Next we get our pictures taken with the big, fat Santa man who just had his picture taken with the hundreds of kids before us. I really hope the management do an extensive background check on the guys they get to dress up as Santa. Just like the toilets in a gas station, the staff should offer a seat cover for Santa’s knee or at least spray sanitizer on it. My mom likes to get Jessica all dolled up for these photos as if Jessica is auditioning for a beauty contest. But for how much my mom pays for these pics, she should do everything to get her money’s worth, including demanding an extra candy cane. Jessica is only good for one shot before she starts to cry. You would think if Jessica thought this was the real guy bringing her toys every year, she would worship the guy. But no, she sits on his knee and cries in his face. That’s my sister; no logic.

The night before Christmas, we are allowed to open one present and I always pick the biggest one. This year I got a bike, and it’s a pretty sweet ride. Jessica got the stupid pony she earlier cried in the store for. There’s that squeaky wheel thing again, and she still thinks that Santa at the mall got the pony for her. I never really pay attention to what my parents get, but they sounded happy with whatever they got this year.

After all my family is in bed, I like to guess what my other presents are. This year I was shocked to see that Jessica got me a present. I felt bad because I stiffed her this year. My curiosity got to me, and I opened it. A foam dart gun. SWEET!

Right then I heard a door open. I loaded my new foam dart gun and hid behind the Christmas tree. It was my dad coming out of his room with some freshly wrapped gifts. When he was close enough, I leaped out from behind the tree, yelled, “Santa!” and shot him. Priceless! You see, some people think Christmas is about the presents, but as for me, I feel it is about the love and the memories. Fifty years from now, I will not remember what I got this Christmas, but I will remember how I jumped out from behind the tree and shot Santa.

 

I really got my old man good; he even thought so, and he was having a good laugh about the prank as well. When we were both done laughing, he became Dad again and told me I should get to sleep or Santa wouldn’t visit us. Silly old man, Santa is for kids. He went back to bed, and I went to work on my bike.

I stayed up all Christmas Eve night trying to assemble the thing. I love how they give you this huge paper that folds like a map, and only one column is in English. I just rip that off and trash the rest. Once I had it put together, I hopped on and made a midnight trip to the store. There was only one open this late at night, and all of the employees were too busy playing football up and down the aisle to notice me. I had to tackle the one with the ball just to get a little help. I bought Jessica a nice little makeup kit; she really tugged at my heartstrings when I saw she got me a gift.

I went home and was soon awoken by a crazy clown. It was Jessica, already wearing the makeup I bought her. She hugged and kissed me and thanked me for the beautiful present. I looked over to see Mom and Dad giving me dirty looks because they knew she would smear the makeup all over the walls, but I didn’t care. I was happy to see I made her happy, and I’ll clean the mess. I hope I remember this fifty years from now. Merry Christmas, everyone.

I’m curious to know what your favorite presents are. So if you are not too busy, drop a line.

A member of your family will soon do something that will make you proud.

Too late.

Wednesday, January 5th, 2011

8:48 p.m.

School Worries

School is about to start again, and I am not looking forward to that. I think I am still a bully, but I don’t feel like one anymore. I need to kill my bad reputation before it gets me killed. I’m still convinced that at any moment Buzz is going to up and destroy me. I am not sure what he has against me or why I end up messing with the guy; he seems to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time, like when I sneezed on his food. I blame him for that one. Oh well, that is just one of my worries.

I am also afraid to show my worthless face around Angela. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me. I’m not really in the mood to hang out with Donald and Hercules again, seeing that they are the ones that got me in this mess. School is only halfway over, and I can’t wait for this school year to be done. Now I know how teachers feel—they have to put up with and deal with the stuff we pull at school. Well, at least I have a sweet set of wheels now. I can’t think straight tonight; I have too many things on my mind. I will tell you how school goes.