I have to put up my posts in parts because my computer works so slow and because if I do it at work I can't get caught using Mr. Pena's computer. Last time I almost got caught. I try using the ones at the library, but I always have to sit in the middle of little kids and feel weird and everytime someone walks behind me I think they are looking over my shoulder and what if I accidentally type in terrorist words like "bomb" or "dynamite" because they are always looking for things like that. So don't read this until it's done and I say "the end". It's a true one, so beleive it.

So this one time, I was in Indiana. I think I was thirty-three. I was with my mother who had to look into some confusing money thing that involved my late father. We were in Terre Haute, which was about 300 degrees that day. I’m serious, it was 300 degrees. We didn’t have any air conditioning in our car and it smelled like antifreeze the whole time. Plus my mother wouldn’t go to McDonalds or anything. She would only buy bread or something at the worst stores and make sandwiches. There’s paper mills or something in Terre Haute and it smelled like a huge fart. My mother happened to have really bad gas that trip and I would roll down the window and breathe in that terrible factory air.
We were heading back to Illinois on this day. We were pulled over in a gas station parking lot, looking at a map and arguing about which way to go home which was stupid because I had no idea anyway. I went in to the gas station and bought a really big ice cold apple juice for me. She said “Dicky, that’s too much juice! Why did you buy so much? You’re going to make me pull over all the way to Illinois so you can go pee”. I said “It’s 300 degrees Mom! I’ll evaporate before I ever get to pee!”. (I never did pee, either) She reached for my bottle of juice which was between my legs and I went to protect it from her and it tipped over, the whole bottle, right down into my crotch. It was so cold I gasped. She screamed like I had just ripped the seats with a knife. I had a idea that 400 miles later my butt and what-not would be really sticky and gross, so I took a roll of paper towels and began stuffing it up the leg of my shorts and into my crotch and under my butt. I shoved half of the roll into my shorts. Guess what? It worked really good and dried my shorts and underwear just fine and I felt like a genius.
5 hours later we had to stop and get gas. My mother had me pump the gas and gave me money to pay inside. She also asked me to get her some vodka. “Oh, buy me a bottle of vodka, Dicky-bird!” When she wants something she gets real sweet and calls me  Dicky Bird which I hate. Now Mr. Pena calls me that cuz he heard her say it and then the Mexican guys heard him say it and they call me that now amongst other things like “Chongito” which they say means little bird but I think they’re lying.
Well, I went inside the station and found Mom’s vodka and got in line to pay and it was really busy and there were some real pretty girls in there which always makes me do a zipper check. My zipper was good BUT I had forgot all about my apple juice thing and how I had shoved a half a roll of paper towels up my shorts leg and now to my utter horror there was half a towel length sticking out the leg of my shorts! I set down the vodka and quickly grabbed that towel and jerked it, thinking it was going to snap off like they do when you’re by your kitchen sink and you need one and it just snaps off at the perforation. It did not snap off, instead three more towel lengths pulled out from my shorts all attached. People were looking now and I began to sweat really heavy and began pulling out towels like a magician when they pull handkerchiefs out their sleeve or out their mouth and there is that magician music in the background and they just keep coming out forever. It was like that but really fast and frenzied and the great wad of towels in my arm grew and grew until it was the size of a eagle nest. There sure were a lot of towels on half a roll! By the time I pulled them all out everyone was looking at me and it would have been great if they clapped but instead it was really quiet except for the sound of me breathing and sweating so I always act like I did whatever it was on purpose which never works but anyway, I looked at my watch and nodded like I was just performing my usual paper towel drill and walked out without paying for any gas or vodka and the 300 degree air felt nice and cool because my face was red and hot and Mother was very displeased because I made her go in and get everything while I cooled off in the car. It was really all her fault anyway so we argued about that til we got home.

The End