Frequency and the Thugs Cal and Phil
Look at that. Again so soon! There may come another Dark Age in the Journal of Smurf's Mind, but it doesn't begin today! Anyway, what's been going on with the crazy fool I call me… Hmm. That's odd. Not many other people call me "me." Why am I giving myself a nickname that nobody ever uses? In fact, I'm not so sure it's even original! Didn't Abraham Lincoln call himself me, or something? Oh well, I might eventually give up that habit, but it might just be too ingrained. It's so natural!
It's amazing that people actually remember that I'm around! My last entry actually got comments! Isn't that odd, when I hadn't been around for many months? I guess I must be somewhat liked. Or perhaps it's just the "know your enemy" mentality that makes everyone wary of me. I don't know. I'll be optimistic, and assume that people are afraid of me.
Tonight ought to be frightening. These two guys named Cal and Phil are out to get me… I think they're going to hit me with something I won't like tomorrow, and there's really nothing I can do about it. I mean, I have to go to classes, and they're in league with the teacher. They'll just wait for me where I have to go, and then all hope is lost. I might be able to learn enough about them in the next few hours to keep them from beating me to a bloody pulp, but I doubt I can escape completely unscathed. At the very least I won't be all that happy when I get out of Calculus and Philosophy classes, but I think I might have a chance of winning. Wish me luck. I have a bit of experience with these sorts of thugs, but if I'm not careful, I could make a mistake and they'd eat me for breakfast.
Goodnight all.