I continued to grow both intellectually and physically throughout school. Soon I had progressed beyond the capabilities of my peers and sought a place to challenge my mind and find acceptance. Thus I became a member of a small but powerful society in my Jr. High. We called ourselves, Geeks. With a capital 'G' mind you. It was a very prestigious brotherhood, there were only four members, none of whom still speak to each other today. Comprised of the brightest individuals in the school, the Geeks planned, connived, and generally thought up nasty things to do to our arch nemesies, the "In Crowd". Finally after two years things fell apart and they made us graduate.

It was after I'd graduated from Jr. High that I discovered High School. This was an intriguing period in my life in which I explored narcotics such as popularity and Student Gov't. If one is to debate on the type of substances these are, just look how ones life changes once the addiction begins. I also stumbled upon a sedative known as heartbreak which I became horrible addicted to, using it throughout my High School career. Though most of it seems to have been flushed from my body, it seems to me that it may be a recurring habit. Finally, I saw the folly of my ways and graduated.

After narrowly escaping High School I rushed away to that institution of higher learning called college. There I accomplished next to nothing while attempting to discover if there is anything resembling "life" in Orange County. It has been two years and my collegues and I are still looking. While trace amounts of entertainment have been discovered, it remains a mystery how any one can survive in such a barren and lifeless environment. The popular theory is that the abundance and variety of life from the LA area somehow seeps into Orange County providing a trickle down effect, allowing life to exist, but in a suspended and coma-like state.

After succeeding (a very loosely used term) in my first year of school I began the summer in good spirits, that lasted all of ten minutes when I accessed my bank account and discovered to my dismay that there was little there. Due to my financial desperation, I entered what some people called the Job Market. This adventure into the life of a mall employee was both interesting and educational. It taught me that the government is not only controlling the minds of our youths in their state institutions I spoke of earlier, cleverly labeled "schools", but also that they are siphoning hard earned money from the public sector in order to fund their various nefarious schemes, and calling it taxation. In a well plotted and swiftly executed abbreviation of history, Gerald Ford wrote into history an apocryphal story called, "The American Revolution" in order to cover up the truth that America is merely a poorly funded bank operation begun by the faltering British nation during the late 1700's. This was all revealed to me in a dream, and via my work experience at the mall.

Fleeing the mall, I returned to school only to find myself an RA, resident advisor on my resume, rusty asshole to my residents. In some sort of foul computer error I was placed in charge of 71 students at my unnamed university. Because there was little I could do about it, and because housing was hard to come by, I decided to give it the old college try. The freshman, as I fondly called them, responded well to my fresh mixture of hearty discipline and biased favoritism. Once the attempted coup was put down and agreements were made that were favorable to both parties, life in the dorm became much more peaceful for all concerned. My school-work flourished under the disciplined life I led as an RA, and considering my success at dominating the lower classes at my school I decided to try my hand at dominating the lower classes in another country. Surprisingly I was accepted in the Education Abroad program and given clearance to learn a foreign language and about a foreign culture in the strange land called Great Britain.

As usual, being summer, I begin my yearly estivation, retreating to my small Southern California estate to recuperate from the toll life has taken on my frail frame. My therapy includes a few hours of daily recreation my therapist calls "Being a lazy bastard". My father also calls it this, though further studies will be needed to determine the nature of this coincidence. I've also returned to the mall only to find my hours cut and my former masters gone. Thus before my grand voyage my wallet remains empty, though my belly is full. Soon, I will enter that nation state called England and wreak much havoc upon their fragile foreign psyches. Until that time, I wish you all good luck and godspeed!