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It's Halloween where I live right now.
Today, I'm going to visit my friend Frank. He's still hurt. I'll stay with him for about an hour before heading on over to my friend William's house for a party. I'm going as a German guy - I'm wearing lederhosen and a hat with a feather. I'm wearing it as I type! And I've learned to speak fake German. (In a phone conversation, I said "Ach nicht! Guten tag!") Most of my friends are going in costume.
Frank is unable to
Updated 30th October 2013 at 08:44 PM by zakisrage
There are a lot of cartoons that I like. But for a while, I hated to admit to people that I still like Arthur - the show on PBS about the cartoon aardvark and his friends. My friend Frank and I watch it from time to time - we find it surprisingly funny.
I had a hard time telling people that I like it, but last year I told my mother that I still like Arthur. I told a few other friends, and they were cool with it. Believe it or not, the show isn't that babyish. It's even rather edgy
My friend Frank has been begging for my advice. Last night, he came to my house for a visit. He said that he didn't want to go home, since he was too upset. We had dinner together.
I told Frank that he should be happy to be home with his family. But then he told me his problem.
The problem is this: Frank's older sister is dating this guy "Mac" who goes to college with her (I don't feel like using his real name this time). But the problem is that Frank doesn't
And now for the final part of my life story.
When I was 12, my father had finally graduated from his community college. Even luckier for him, he found a job at a business in Newcastle. It isn't one that makes tons of money, but it makes enough to support the family and for us to have free time. And so in January 2008, I said good-bye to Sydney. Of course, we'd go back to visit, but not to live there.
Our house is pretty nice. We got one not too far from the water, so
Okay, so I didn't post this yesterday since I was kinda busy. But here it is for today. Note: it's not as exciting as the first one, but I have to do it so I can start with the third and final part: PART TWO
When I was almost 8 years old, my parents started suspecting that I might be autistic. They noticed that I had fixations on various things. They also noticed me rocking my body and scratching myself. Eventually, I got tested for it, and it turned out I was definitely