I've been having stomach aches. Four times a day, I get up to go to the bathroom. I've just finished with at least my fifth of the day. Am I slowly wasting away? Am I being poisoned? Is this some malicious plot to immaculate my bowels? Must...use...toilet...

Someone's getting even with me. At night, I don't sleep until 3:00. Then in the morning, I can't wake up. Either this is a talent or my great Uncle Alvin getting even with me for the time I replaced his toup»e with a dead skunk.

Thought: I wish I could balance a pen in my navel.

Note to myself: Practice balancing a pen in my navel.

Where does the time go? I have studied this for many years, spending countless sleepless nights pandering over that very question, and have determined that it goes to the same place as all the lunchboxes I lost in elementary school; possibly, a small cantina in Mexico.

My worst nightmares have occurred recently. My shadow has been conspiring with my mirror image to kill me by smothering my head in a giant bowl of saurkraut while rubbing my thighs with paprika.

A funny thing happened this morning. My bunk was invaded by giant bugs who could dance the Charlston while singing "Hello, Dolly." I was able to fend of a few of them with a mop, before I was knocked unconscious with my own left arm, and dragged into the lake, where I was revived by a talking octopus with an eyepatch and mutton chops.

Iggy: You can see the damn from the tower.
Avery: The what?
Iggy: The dam.
Avery: The what?
Iggy: The dam.
Avery: The what?
Iggy: The dam.
Avery: The what?

I want to play the didgeredooo. Not only that, but I want to play showtunes on it while sitting atop the tower and looking at the dam.
Avery: The what?
The dam.
Avery: The what?
The dam.

I recently achieved my greatest dream: I now hold the school record for fitting the largest amount of foreign objects in my nose: my record is currently twelve pencils, four cupcakes, seven rolls of toilet paper, an eraser, and a magic marker. I am writing this from my bed in the hospital.

I accidentally blew up my friend's house. Some people have no sense of humor.

I hate nature walks, I hate camping. When I grow up, I'm moving to Brooklyn, where I can live in a concrete jungle and never leave my apartment except to return old library books from my early childhood.

omnibus

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