Stuffs About Me

Okay. Two chocolates, one piece of bread, and two boxes of chocolate milk later, I'm back. And, uh, still very bored. Even if my novel is sitting in front of me, begging for me to revise it.

...

Nah. NOT TODAY, NOVEL. D:<

Anyway, I'm debating whether or not I should start writing Stuff right now. Like, right at this moment. Or maybe I should put it off until I'm done revising?

...then again, it may take me weeks or months or even years before I'm done. AND I WANT TO GET STARTED ON MY RANDOM BOOK RIGHT AWAY.

...but then, I'm planning to just write Stuff, bind it by hand, then make a few copies to give to my friends. That wouldn't really get me the fame and fortune I so rightfully deserve discovered, huh? (Come to think of it, writing on Kid Fort doesn't really present much benefit either. It doesn't sharpen my writing skills. It doesn't show people how bombastic I am. And pretty much nobody reads it. Why do I blog anyway? Because I want to. 'Cause I'm a rebel. I'm a rebel. IMMA REBEL AND-)

...but then again, even if I publish the entire HERS series, I doubt many people would want to read something by someone like me. I'm pretty sure the About the Author page would be more interesting than the entire story itself.

HEY.

WAIT.

I've been thinking about writing an About the Author page for all the stuff I write. How does this sound?:

----- ---- (like I'd reveal my real name to you guys so early in our relationship :I) is an awesome and bombastic Filipino kid who's been homeschooled since kindergarten. She goes by many names, though her most used aliases are Puffy and kidZ. If you know anyone by those names that may or may not be her. (I believe the only way to find out is by stalking said person.) She is a peculiar creature called a "writer," and sometimes masquerades as a "singer" or an "artist". She lives on Island X. She occasionally blogs in the toilet Kid Fort For You. Oh, and she's paranoid about showing her face online.

 Not only do I write awesome prefaces, I write awesome stuff about myself too. -3- I mean, not that I have to try too hard. If you're writing about an awesome person, I think it would be easier to write awesome stuff about them. (I'm flattered.)

I should write an autobiography.

.
.
.

But I guess then it would be one of the shortest autobiography EVER, seeing as I've only been alive for 712 years. Oh yes, the past seven hundred years have been tough. I lost all my flesh. Muscles, fat, and kidneys alike. But, you know, I'm still alive. OPTIMISM, PEOPLE.

And anyway, even if I did write one, it would be presented in children's book format.

ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A DERP NAMED kidZ. I AM UNFORTUNATELY THE SAID DERP. HAVE NO IDEA WHY I STARTED LIKE THAT BUT LET'S GO WITH IT. YEAH!

I WAS BORN ON JULY 37, 1345. I BELIEVE I WAS EITHER BORN IN A HOSPITAL OR A SPACESHIP, BUT IT DOESN'T REALLY MATTER THIS PART OF THE STORY.

I WENT TO SCHOOL. I DID NOT LIKE SCHOOL; I WAS TOO SMART. (STILL AM.) AND SO I BECAME HOMESCHOOLED ALONG WITH A TWERKING NARWHAL I CALL MY BROTHER.

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY I DECIDED I WOULD BECOME A SINGER.

THAT DREAM FAILED.

HORRIBLY.

SO RIGHT NOW, I'M CONVINCING MYSELF I WOULD MAKE A PRETTY DECENT WRITER. WHETHER THAT PROFESSION WOULD WORK OR NOT, I HAVE NO IDEA. I WOULD EITHER BECOME FAMOUS OR GO WITH MY BACK-UP DREAM OF DEVELOPING PUNY FLASH GAMES AND LAME COMICS WITH MY TWERKING NARWHAL.

LET THAT BE A LESSON, KIDS.

NEVER WRITE IN CAPS LOCK OR YOU WILL END UP LIKE ME.

THE END.
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY BY kidZ
NO RIGHTS RESERVED
IF YOU PLAGIARIZE THIS, I WILL PERSONALLY SEND MY RABID RAINBOW PUPPY - WHOM I AM FORCED TO CALL MY LITTLE BROTHER - TO HUNT YOU DOWN. OKAY? OKAY. THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU.

Oh, drat. I wrote it down, didn't I? Now some git is going to plagiarize it and print it into a cheap booklet he/she can sell to his/her derpy friends for $3 each. D:

So I guess that's it for today. Is it? I hope not.

I just hope the caffeine in the chocolate wouldn't, like, fuel up the nonsense part of my brain (which is just about...all of it...) and make my unwilling body type up another weird post. ;___;

Well, whatever. YOLO, am I right? Am I right?

...

D:

WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME?

IS IT BECAUSE OF MY YOLO?

DDD:

WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME? WHY? WHYYYYYYYYYY?!

Is it because of my autobiography? Or the caps lock? I CAN CHANGE FOR YOU. DDD:

...

.____. Uh. Sorry. The caffeine really did kick in, just as I predicted. (I AM NOSTRADAMUS.) So, um, before I regurgitate all over you - which, in normal circumstances, I would be glad to do - I better end this post. For now. Peace out.