Wednesday night is movie night at château Loaf. Dad fries up a sugar-powdered heap of beignets (my dad was from New Orleans until he had to skip because of angry Armenians). I make funnel cake with my 8 year old sister Audrey (eventho I am 2 old to make funnel cake since I am 14, but my sis digs it). Mom sometimes runs out to Lotusblossum Supervideo to rent a VHS tape (Beta is 4 losers) but usually we just watch what is showing on TBS. Mostly the movies are pretty lame like with Burt Reynolds or Sally Fields (not the Fields that has the cookie store, that one is kewlio). But at least it gets me out of Kickball Wednesdays with the Funky Hunks, so I don’t have to pretend to like sports for one night at least (I am down with Freeze Tag, tho).

Anywaizz, last night we watched Sophie’s Choice. It stars Meryl Strep and is about a lady who is kidnapped (along with millionz of other peeps) by bad army guyz and then they make her pick which kid has to die (!!!!!! like what-le-truck, yo?). She has to choose (hence her Choice) between the boy or the girl. I won’t tell you who she picks to live (the boy), but it got my noodle think’n who my mom would pick if dorky soldiers (they didn’t even have rawk’n outfits like in Predator) made her decide between me and my sister Audrey. I have tabulated a check list to determine which of us my mom likes less. It lookz like this:

Chad Vs. Audrey: Who would mom pick like in Sophie’s Choice:

1. Audrey is 8 years old and dyslexic. I can read everything forwards. CHAD WINS

2. Last year for her birthday, I whittled mom an ashtray out of Irish Spring Soap (I forgot she doesn’t smoke). Audrey got hit by a car in the parking lot of The Steak & Egg after mom’s special dinner. She had to go to the hospital and mom said it was a birthday miracle that she didn’t die. AUDREY WINS

3. In all the fotos from when I was born, mom is crying. In all the fotos from when Audrey was born, mom is smiling and thumbs-upping. AUDREY WINS

4. Audrey has what they call ‘extreme vertical inscissorz overlap’ and will require lots of expensive dental work. I, however, have a perfect set of pearly whites. CHAD WINS

5. Audrey melted a box of crayons in the microwave because she was trying to ‘make a rainbow’ (stoopid, everyone knows you can only make a rainbow with lawn sprinklers on a summer day). Now everytime mom reheats fluffernutter crepes they taste like wax. The only thing i ever melt in the microwave is kraft singles on melba roundz. CHAD WINS

6. When I grow up I will become a jazz musician (I am already very talented at listening 2 jazz music). Audrey wants to be a doctor for red-headed orphans (?) and ponies. CHAD WINS

7. Audrey has a boyfriend (Cliff Crestebutte, I hear that he cuts his shirt in class with scissors and chews on his collar during recess). I almost might have a girlfriend maybe (Millie Miller, she is always smelling my hair behind my back and is a member of the Dudettes, the popular girl group equivalent of the Funky Hunks, of which i am not just a member but also the Secretary). CHAD WINS

8. I already have a lot of facial hair. Mom said I could shave if I want. Mom caught Audrey in the bathtub trying to shave her legs ‘like the big girls in 6th grade’ and went bonkerz with anger. She totally flipped her lid & had to have a Hot Toddy with supper that night to ‘calm herself.’ CHAD WINS

SCORE: Chad 6, Audrey 2

K so I technically win but I still think my mom would pick Audrey to live because Audrey is a girl and mom’s like girlz better (they can dress them up in dresses, make them wear lace-trimmed sox and braid their hair). I kno Merl Strep (Sophie) picks the girl to DIE, but that is a movie and movies aren’t real because they are not real life. So yeah, thank god there are no bad army guyz in Swedshon, Indiana because i would totally be in troubs.

Originaly posted on Deb Webster Blog [dot] com

Hi, my name is Millie Miller, I am 14 years old and the wealthiest girl in all the greater Swedshon region and most of Pittjun County.* Jeez, you’re thinking, Millie Miller looks really wealthy, I’d like to look really wealthy like Millie Miller. Now slowdown Sally. Before we can help you look really wealthy, we must establish how wealthy you actually are (your wealth quotient, if you will). YOU ARE NOT WEALTHY IF… 1. Your garage fits only two cars. 2. You refer to your maid as The Cleaning Lady, and she gets to go home at night. 3. Stir-fry for supper. 4. Pepsi. 5. Your mom has always had the same face. 6. You are poor. Stop crying. You look so middle class when you cry. Dry your eyes girlfriend, because you can still look rather wealthy. I resolve to show you how because a) noblesse oblige, and b) my youth group leader Kirk says i need to do community service, so this is my community service. Get over it, Kirk. LOOK WEALTHY IN 5 EASY STEPS

1. Crab Fork

Eat everything with a tiny sterling silver crab fork. If you can only afford silver-plated, keep that information to yourself. Carry it with you at all times. I nestle mine in a golden velveteen pouch. Also, if you can’t eat something with a crab fork, it’s probably not very expensive (soup) and therefore eating it will not make you look any wealthier. A crab fork tells the world, I eat succulent shellfish so often that look, I HAVE to carry the special fork with me. In a land-locked state like Indiana, the crab fork communicates that you can pay well-over the market price for blue crab or rock lobster all day, every day. Do it.

2. Fur and/or Hides

Always don at least one item scraped from the back of a small to medium sized mammal or large bird (ostrich). This is okay because you did not kill it, your dad’s visa did. If that girl with the earth-day shirt hassles you, tell her you’ll wear her if she doesn’t shut her maw (although you never would because her hair is greasy and she smells like wax). Most expensive furs: Sable, Mink, Ermine, Lynx. Budget furs: Fox, Chinchilla, Rabbit. Do-it-yourself furs: possum, badger, beaver, raccoon. In Swedshon, we have an abundant supply of such critters. My friend Donna scored herself a coonskin coat by throwing a bear trap and some macaroni in her trash can. She lives in East Swedshon (gross) so it wasn’t hard to find someone with a fridge in the front yard who could skin the little devils. From 200 yards, the coat makes her look mildly wealthy.

3. Camera Pen

I have a high-definition, platinum Takaiyakutso Camera Pen with an emerald encrusted grip (i look thinner in green). My camera pen has a two-prong purpose: 1) I can record hiqh-quality video of my friends doing dorky stuff that i frequently find useful when persuading Jennifer to share her chips, 2) anything impossibly small that should be big is expensive looking. If you cannot afford the camera pen, you can fake it by spray-painting a Bic a metallic hue, rolling it in glitter, and gluing a glass button to the end. If some jerkface calls you out and insists upon viewing the footage, tell him to buy a clue for 200, Alex — it wirelessly downloads to the chapstick-sized computer inside your personal safe due to obvious security concerns.

4. “C’est tres _!”

I don’t speak french, and neither do you. My mom claims she does, but she also claims to turn 30 every year. I refuse to let my Spanish-biased school district restrict my language bank, and so should you. French is timelessly classy and hence wealthy by logical inference. Once every hour, whether noshing at the cafeteria table or chucking a bowling ball down the alley, exclaim “C’est tres cool/dorky/rad/expensive!” Simple. C’est (say•est) + tres (tray) + context appropriate english adjective. You not only look wealthy, you sound wealthy.

5. Hitting

Hit someone. Or kick. Whatever. Assaulting someone says I can smack you because my dad has a lawyer on retainer. So wealthy. I make slapping some scrub with the back of my hand a thrice-daily routine. In two years, i will trade in my paw as the weapon of choice for a bright shiny moving vehicle (only just a love pat from my gold-plated grill, I am not in to manslaughter). Important note: be sure that whoever you hit is financially inferior in case of a civil suit, as such nuisances can drag out indefinitely and turn into a test of not so much wills, but rather resources. Beating on someone from East Swedshon (also known as “Dog Patch”) is a safe bet. There you have it. With my 5 easy steps, you have no excuse not to look even the slightest bit wealthy. Wipe off the poor and hop to it.

$$$ -Millie Miller *There is one girl in Pittjun County, Tegan Flesher of Kupfer Creek (south of Swedshon), who is slightly wealthier. However, she is home-schooled and has a an underbite.

Original comments

Originaly posted on Deb Webster Blog [dot] com

Last week, I was sporting my extremely expensive floor-length Chinchilla vest while sitting with Jennifer and Donna in the cafeteria. I was casually chomping on my watercress sandwich when Vanessa “Earth Day” Robles strode up with her posse of bio-bangers and said, “It’s like you’re wearing the souls of 20 murdered animals,” and I was like, “It’s probably more like 50.” Then she stormed off with her dirty hair and cargo shorts.

Then yesterday I was at my locker, petting the picture of Chad Loaf i keep tucked in my math binder, when Robles came over and was all, “Your leather dress makes you look like a mammal-cannibal.” And then I was all, “Actually, no, it makes me look sexual.” And then she was like, “You’re a killer.” And then I was like, “I WILL BURY YOU IN A SHALLOW GRAVE,” and that shut her up.

Seriously though, Vanessa really got under my skin and I started thinking about why it’s okay to kill/wear animals, as if I have to justify myself to anyone, but whatever. I’ve picked my brain from front to back and side to side, and here are my reasons why animals desserve to die/be worn.

1. Animals will eat your face.

When I was five my parents bought me the rare Blanc de Hotot rabbit for Easter. I named him Piptit. I was in the middle of giving Piptit a buzz cut with my dad’s electric nose hair trimmer when he lunged and took a chunk out of my lower lip. I had to get 127 stitches and plastic surgery. The following evening we had Hare with Morels for supper. Now a teen, I wear as much rabbit/chinchilla as I please. Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it bunnies?

2. Animals are fat.

My parents forced me to go to ranch camp (ew) one summer in New Mexico. I met a girl from California who lived on a farm. Her family went away for the weekend and accidentally left the door to the hay storage area open or something like that. The cows got in. They came back and all the cows were dead. Their stomachs had exploded because they just kept eating the hay, they couldn’t stop. That is gluttony and gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins, so God or whoever thinks it’s fine to make a nice bag out of their fat hide. Also, veal is so tastey. (Note: lamb also makes a very nice bag and chop.)

3. Animals are dirty.

Foxes live in holes and lick their butts. They also make lovely stoles.

4. Animals are gross.

Last year I had to do a research paper for Mrs. LaPiere’s Biology class, and I chose to write about the Iberian Lynx because 1) there was a show on the national geographic channel about it so i wouldn’t have to read (score), and 2) I really wanted one for my fourteenth birthday (in capelet form). I was watching the show and thinking, “okay, the lynx is like a really big cat, isn’t it pretty–” when suddenly the lynxes started bumping uglies for like five whole minutes. In the next scene they tore a deer to shreds and rolled around in its blood. Nasty. I’m sorry but anything that unicivilized deserves to be endangered.

I’m done. You probably won’t agree with my rationale but you also probably wear crocs and eat kashi. To each his own or whatever. On a final note, remember that nothing really ever dies if it lives on in your closet.

$$$

-Millie Miller, 14 yrs old, wealthiest girl in Swedshon

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