Heard Him Say
I say 'Journal' due to the reason that Sammy has just now informed me that 'Diary' sounds pansy. I must edit my other entries and rearrange Sammy's face for suggesting that I was a pansy. Ahhh…gaze into the brilliant mind of Dean Winchester. Marvel at his idiocy…
Key
Italics Present talking
Underline Things happening at the moment not being written down
Normal - Journal writing
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Dear Journal,
I say 'Journal' due to the reason that Sammy has just now informed me that 'Diary' sounds pansy and only a girl would write such things. So, I must edit my other entries and rearrange Sammy's face for suggesting that I was a pansy. Oh how I relish older brother powers.
If I ever get my hands around that skinny neck of Sammy's…
Anyhow, we haven't found anything supernatural for a whole day. I mean, that's just plain freaky not to find something abnormal in one day.
In the car, Sammy was threatening to kill all Metallica tapes found. Maybe I should knock his teeth out if he tries.
Metallica WILL live forever!
I think I spoke that aloud because Sammy's looking at me like I'm on some dope or something which I probably am, but why should I tell him that?
"Dean…you are the biggest dork. Would you quit reading out what you're writing?"
…Sammy visiting a professional dentist by the name, Dean Winchester, is a very good idea. So, I throw my brother a 'I-would-say-I-hate-you-but-I'm-incredibly-a-lazy-ass'-look. Hmm, I don't think the look is working…
Anywho, Haley Joel thinks he's so cool now, sitting in front of me at a café table. Look at that smug look on his face…when I get my hands around that scrawny neck of his…
Ahem. The waitress serving us is not even good-looking. I don't know but she looks 12 to me. I think she's warming up to Sammy. I guess that's what happens. Nerds attract nerds.
"Hey Napolean. If you're finished being a total nerd, I'd like to order a drink."
Sammy just mouthed to me to "get stuffed". Oh, I will get stuffed. Get into stuffing him up. Anywho, I swear parents should lock up their nerds when Sammy's around…er, I mean lock up their sons and daughters…
(Yawn)
Having nothing to hunt down is very boring and sitting around in a café, writing in a diar--(scribbles out recent word)--Journal is very tiring work. Also having kicking fights under the café table contributes to being distracted…a lot. One can not focus on writing a journal entry when one is being continuously kicked in the shins and when one tries to retaliate, one kicks foot into metal bar holding up café table. Therefore, one must resolve to plotting 101 evil scheming ways to murder one's brother. One must also learn to stop referring to self as one…
Ookay…maybe I should scribble that last paragraph out. OW. Stupid brother kicked me in the shins again. I feel obliged to slap him. OW. There he goes again!
"Sammy, stop it."
"Don't call me Sammy. It's Sam."
"Fine, you're adopted."
"What? How?"
"Because, my real brother's name is 'Sammy'. Your's is 'Sam'."
"You know, back at Stanford, we called people like you, stupid."
"Oh gosh, I think I just threw up in my mouth. Like, shock horror, being stupid is terrifying."
Now, there's a stare down and one finds it hard to write when staring one's brother down but one has learnt to master the difficulty. One has got to stop saying one… Also, I find it hard to focus on glaring when Vanessa Carlton is singing about walking a thousand miles. Woman, you're going to have to walk longer than that to snap me out of this stare down.
"Um…Mr. Winchester and Mr. Winchester?" stammered the nervous nerd that was serving us and also looked 12, her skirt riding too high for a girl her age.
Unconsciously and automatically, I reached over to her skirt and pulled it down over her thighs. Sam was looking at me like I was some crazy psychopathic lunatic, his mouth hanging open.
The 12-year-old looked offended. "Pervert!" she cried out, slamming my glass of coffee down onto the table.
I am highly offended. HIGHLY offended. I did her a favour!
"Whoa…Dean…I…"
"What?"
"You're…you're like an angel…actually, strike that. Rewind. You WERE like an angel for a second…"
…Does Sammy believe in guardian angels? Though he won't admit it--HECK YES HE DOES! And I, am his beautiful guardian angel. Yes, handsomely beautiful. So beautiful, it breaks my poor heart to look in the mirror.
"Dean…you really gotta quit reading out what you're writing…"
…Then again, I might not be his guardian angel, and might be his murderer…when I get my hands around that bony neck of his…
"Tut tut. Dean, you have a ddddiiiiiiiirrrrrrtttttyyyy, dddddiiiirrrrrttttyyyy mind. It's littered with evil, yeeesss." Sam nods knowledgeably.
I really got to stop reading out what I'm writing!
"Yes you must."
"Sammy, remember, I'm an optimistic. Not a pessimistic."
"Yes and optimistics are just in DENIAL."
"Shut up Sammy. My Journal is optimistic."
"No Dean. Your Journal is in DENIAL."
I think I just stabbed a hole ACCIDENTLY into the next 20 pages. Hmm…imagining the pages are Sam…maybe I should stab it some more…
"Oh my gosh! Dean, look!" Sam cried suddenly pointing behind me. "It's Cassie!"
Of course I whipped my head around. Only to discover I wanted to stab more holes into the paper Sam. Sam is laughing so hard now. I think I might poke his eyes out soon.
I reached forward and began poking him with my pen. "How do you like it huh? How do you like it? HOW DO YOU LIKE IT HUH?"
Sam gives me a horrified look. He pushes his chair further away from the table.
And now, everyone in the café is staring at me like I'm an alien and the manager is being pointed over to my table by the 12-year-old waitress.
Oh bloody hell.
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Well, that's it for now. I'll update if you liked it and send a review! So review kind people!