Save the fights for at home boys. That's what rolling pins are for.

I couple days ago I read in the paper that a eight year old kid committed suicide because he was bullied. He was my little brothers best friend. I cried because it could have been my little brother. I cried because it could've been prevented.

They say honesty is the best way to go. But how do you tell someone that you were dreaming about them? You don't, you lie and say it was a nightmare.

One thing about life is you die. The other is you pay taxes.

Some of the things that happen, happen for no good reason. The things that don't, often have a really good reason..

Can't ever win, huh?

" You're mental." Muttered my best friend.

"Why thank you, I think you're interesting too." I grinned back at her.

It took standing out in the cold for two hours to realize that the homeless have to deal with this everyday. I cried for them.

It's life, survival of the fittest, or the one who has the strongest friends.

My mother raised an eyebrow. "I'm not that bad."

"If only you knew," I said with disdain. Then I smiled at her. "How have you been," I asked feeling concerned. Was't that how love/hate realtionships worked?

"It's a little late to be drinking." My mother said smiling from the spot I was originally standing. "when you're here, Mother, it's never early enough not to be drinking." With that I took another swig.