Quelle coinkydink.

Inside shot of our lockers at school:



Old pic from inside the land of sicko scientists:



I dunno, man. I dunno.

-Fang.


P.S. Looking into other sports in lieu of that swimming thing since SOMEONE REALLY ANNOYING talked me out of it*. The track team's name is The Flyers. Ha. If only they knew.


*Made Total sing "The Song That Doesn't End" on loop for three hours straight.

Slippery situation.

Dear Inner Monologue,

When I said that we looked like a family of olympic swimmers, I didn't actually mean that I'd hope we'd be actually mistaken for one.

The swim team captain, Lissa, just asked us...sorry, Fang if he wanted to join because he, quote, looked so "athletic" {hurl}, and would probably "look better in swim trunks" {puke} than Michael Phelps himself.

What?!

Yeah. Angel would dominate every race and never even come up for air after the whole swim meet was over, but we have a little problem called WE HAVE WINGS!

What is he THINKING?

Ugh!

His new favorite color is about to be BLACK and BLUE in a minute if he doesn't find a way out of this one...fast.

-Max

Revelation.

I think I really like the color red.

-Fang.

Pie = good. Homework = not pie.

I hate homework.

I can't see it...but I hate it.

Ig

I'm doing "research." I swear.

I have no idea if blogging's allowed here, so I'm posting incognito-style from the library, on a break from Ms. Segerdahl, my new teacher.

Forget new - how about my first proper teacher ever? I use the word "proper" only because I could refer to Jeb as one, but he turned out to be a weasel, and then dead, and then not-so-dead, and I just don't think the educational system here in good ole VA works that way.

I just had the joy of meeting with the headmaster, William Pruitt. (It's so much more fun to say his name with your nose pointed up in the air while squeezing it, by the way.)

That man has more unsightly nosehair than I've ever seen in my LIFE. It was so bad, he could probably pass himself off as an Eraser if he cut it all off and pasted it to his shinny bald head.

I played the parents-as-missionaries card again, and that idiot who should not be allowed to run a school filled with children bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

That guy's gonna be a problem. I tell the Flock to blend, and what do they do? Red flag themselves with a stink bomb! I need to do a backpack search on them from now on for smelly bomb paraphernalia.

Eek. The bell just rang. I need to find Prep School Barbie and meet up with the rest of the crew outside. Unfortunately, we don't have her pink convertible. (It must have been sold separately.)

-Max

P.S. Lying is NOT the 10th commandment. The bible widget on this computer told me so.