My name is Bill. I am a rock. No, not The Rock. His name is Dwayne. I am a rock. Yes, one of those things found in backyards and made of minerals. That aside, I'm here to document my journey to find my girl. Not "my girl" as in girlfriend/wife, but "my girl" as in, well, owner. Yes, I am a pet rock. Nothing shameful. In fact, being a pet to human children is one of the highest respected professions that rocks can have. And, yes, rocks have professions. We can be construction workers, models, actors, landscape surveyors, and pets. There are more, but I just named the best. Anyway, not important to the whole documentary. I just wanted to put it on record that rocks are not just rocks. We're like people, only better, in some cases. I mean, we don't have opposable thumbs, but we manage. Back to the whole adventure before I get completely off-track. Yes, one fault of rocks is that we get side-tracked easily. But, hey, so do humans. I'm just going to start a new paragraph to keep things neat. Don't want everything squeezed together.
Okay, to begin with, my girl's name is Sarah Walker. Yes, that's right. Her real name is Sarah Walker. I know, I've watched the show too and they want us to believe that her name isn't really Sarah Walker. But it is. Don't believe everything on television. I mean, they also want us to believe that her dad is a conman. Come on. Sarah had a wonderful childhood. She has six siblings and two amazing parents. I did have a little trouble with her dad, but I'll get to that later.
To go off-topic for a little bit, the show Chuck, well it's genius. The government made a fantastic move with that. It's pure genius. Make a show and throw tons and tons of actual fact mixed with some lies and it's the perfect government cover-up. The show is aired on NBC and it's about stuff that seems incredible. Completely unrealistic. Little do the unsuspecting humans know that what they're seeing is pretty much a documentary. Sure some things are false, but it's pretty much accurate. And aside from the whole government cover-up, the show itself is amazing. So amazing that I was extremely mad when I heard there was debate on renewal. But turns out that was a cover-up too.
Again off-topic, Sarah Walker. My girl. She is just phenomenal. The way that she can express emotions using just her eyes. Amazing. She actually has a fan-site. The name of it is Strahotski (dot com). The name comes from a play on the surname "Strahovski" which the government used as a last name for Sarah. They also switched her first name with Yvonne. No biggie. Awesome site. Very informative. I hang out there from time to time. Read the posts. Haven't signed up though. The reason for that is I really don't have time to keep up with a forum right now. Maybe later.
Back on track now. So Sarah grew up in Pennsylvania. Nice place. And we met on her seventh birthday. Um, the birthday party was held at a park and it just so happened to be the park that I lived in. Sarah was running around, playing tag with her siblings and friends. Just having fun. Well, she came towards me and I knew that she was going to fall. I didn't want her to, but as a rule, rocks must look like inanimate objects until a human picks us up for some use or until something important takes place calling for us to "come alive". So as much as I didn't want to trip Sarah, her falling and scraping her knee wasn't important enough to cause me to move. And she did fall and scrape her knee. She didn't cry though. Nope, no tears. She did however pick me up. Again, rules state that I couldn't engage in conversation until she spoke to me first. Stupid rule, but whatever. While Sarah didn't speak to me at that moment, she took me to her mom and asked her to please stick me in her purse. The mother, nice woman, did and I remained there until the family arrived home.
Now I'm going to skip a lot of things and get to the part where I'm kicked out of the house. So about a year passes and Sarah and I have become great friends. Yes, she did speak to me and, of course, we talked. I was her guardian. And it was cool. I loved the job and I loved Sarah. She was like a daughter to me. Giant, her being a human and all, but daughter. Well, her dad didn't like me. Never did. He would tolerate me because his baby girl liked me, but a few weeks after her eighth birthday, he kicked me out of the house. His reason was because "He was tired of the rock peeing all over his house.". In his defense, I did pee all over his house. But in my defense, I have a small bladder. I'm a rock. There really wasn't much I could do about it. I couldn't make my bladder any bigger. And rocks generally have small bladders anyway. Mine is just smaller than average. Not my fault. It's genetic!
So, Sarah was forced to throw me away. But she didn't. No, she hid me in the backyard. She would visit me whenever she could. Nice plan, but it lasted about a week. Now, she thinks I ran away. But the truth is her dad saw her with me one day and felt that her attachment to me was becoming unhealthy. And, frankly, I don't blame him. From a human perspective, having a child become attached to a rock would be a little unsettling. Because Sarah and I were best friends. He was just acting with fatherly love and protection. I respect him for that. Although, it doesn't really make forgiving him for taking me to the dump any less hard. That's where I ended up. The dump. Not really a nice place either.
Well, I stayed at the dump for a couple years. Traveled from place to place after that. Now I'm here. Just outside of Los Angeles. I'm on my way there, because that's where Sarah is. I just have to find her.
Now I begin my story....