Mirror Of Doom

No one likes to talk about hygiene. Especially not bathroom stuff. But, since Uncle Edgar pushed me through that mirror, I’ve been thinking about bathrooms. A lot. That’s probably because I haven’t seen (or used) one since I arrived in this “other world.” The closest thing to a bathroom here is called a privy, and…

My sister snuck in here behind my back and read my private online journal – and posted an entry! ACK! There should be laws against this kind of thing! This is awful! I need to delete her post. But I don’t know how! ARGH!!

Timmy left the computer on, and I saw what he wrote about me. It’s a complete and total LIE! Yes, I left my diary out – by accident! It was NOT an “invitation” to Timmy to read it! And I don’t care what he says. If he didn’t take my diary, we would NOT have…

Let’s pretend your bossy older sister leaves her precious diary just lying there on the coffee table in the living room. No one else is around. What would you do? Wait… before you answer that question, let me also say that this is the only time you’ve seen that diary out in plain sight. So…

That’s Tim – not Timmy. Yeah, at 12-years-old, I’m still “technically” a kid. But I want to set the record straight now, because I know guys who are called “Billy,” “Jimmy” and, yes, even “Timmy” – and they’re adults! That’s so not going to happen to me. Anyway, my older sister Kat keeps a diary.…