Day 1
Dear *NEW* Diary,
Welcome to the world of a Ninja. You were selected among all the other wide ruled spiral notebooks to be my companion and recorder in my new empire of awesomeness. One has failed where you will succeed, having been captured by the cops.
I'm hiding out in a secret compound from my enemies, who think I'm dead. Me, dead? Are you kidding? I'm a Ninja. We don't die. We only assimilate into shadow.
I'm starting a new clan, called The Nintenjutsu Ryu. I'd get the owner of the compound to join, but he stays drunk most of the time, and constantly goes off on rants about the government and not letting NAMBLA do their thing. I think NAMBLA stands for the National Association of Marine Battalion L33t Attackers. It makes sense, since he was in Desert Storm. This compound is small....portable so we can disappear at a moment's notice. We have to sleep in the same bed to be able to watch each others' backs. I don't really mind, aside from the fact that he likes to drape his leg over me, and he snores. It makes me feel a little crowded. I find that its a good time to astral project.
I visited my "grave" once. I found it to be soothing. I took one of my neighbor's Bingo daubers and drew the Kanji of the new school on my headstone. I live on, bitches...just like Rikimaru. Bingo ink is h3lla tough. It never washes off. I did that just for the cemetary caretaker. His grandson is a Muay Thai-er. Try and wash that off, ya old shin-kicking fuck.
I dipped one of my shurikens into the ink and gave myself a tattoo of a shuriken on my arm. Ha. How cool is that? That's like using a bullet to pierce your ear and then wearing an earring in the shape of a gun or something. It totally fits. I think it made me sick, though, cuz I spent the rest of the night on the compound toilet with a mean case of the Shinobi Squirts.
I bet my parents are all upset and shit. Screw them. Maybe now they'll realize just what a kickass son they brought into the world. I mean, seriously. How cool must it feel to know that you squirted a ninja from your loins? Dad must have Ninjism. Sucks I had to die for them to notice me, though. I bet if I'd been in the Muay Thai gym they would have supported me. Shows what lame-asses they are.
Anyway, I'm going to sleep now. It's late and I have to get up and go refill the propane for the compound tomorrow, then I have asphalt shadow-glide training. Glad to have you with me, new diary. Just be sure and keep it ninja.
Dear *NEW* Diary,
Welcome to the world of a Ninja. You were selected among all the other wide ruled spiral notebooks to be my companion and recorder in my new empire of awesomeness. One has failed where you will succeed, having been captured by the cops.
I'm hiding out in a secret compound from my enemies, who think I'm dead. Me, dead? Are you kidding? I'm a Ninja. We don't die. We only assimilate into shadow.
I'm starting a new clan, called The Nintenjutsu Ryu. I'd get the owner of the compound to join, but he stays drunk most of the time, and constantly goes off on rants about the government and not letting NAMBLA do their thing. I think NAMBLA stands for the National Association of Marine Battalion L33t Attackers. It makes sense, since he was in Desert Storm. This compound is small....portable so we can disappear at a moment's notice. We have to sleep in the same bed to be able to watch each others' backs. I don't really mind, aside from the fact that he likes to drape his leg over me, and he snores. It makes me feel a little crowded. I find that its a good time to astral project.
I visited my "grave" once. I found it to be soothing. I took one of my neighbor's Bingo daubers and drew the Kanji of the new school on my headstone. I live on, bitches...just like Rikimaru. Bingo ink is h3lla tough. It never washes off. I did that just for the cemetary caretaker. His grandson is a Muay Thai-er. Try and wash that off, ya old shin-kicking fuck.
I dipped one of my shurikens into the ink and gave myself a tattoo of a shuriken on my arm. Ha. How cool is that? That's like using a bullet to pierce your ear and then wearing an earring in the shape of a gun or something. It totally fits. I think it made me sick, though, cuz I spent the rest of the night on the compound toilet with a mean case of the Shinobi Squirts.
I bet my parents are all upset and shit. Screw them. Maybe now they'll realize just what a kickass son they brought into the world. I mean, seriously. How cool must it feel to know that you squirted a ninja from your loins? Dad must have Ninjism. Sucks I had to die for them to notice me, though. I bet if I'd been in the Muay Thai gym they would have supported me. Shows what lame-asses they are.
Anyway, I'm going to sleep now. It's late and I have to get up and go refill the propane for the compound tomorrow, then I have asphalt shadow-glide training. Glad to have you with me, new diary. Just be sure and keep it ninja.
Comment