(Notes before you begin= Entries are not at any set length. No, there will be no Faulkner cryptic junk. Your mother may be a fish, but I don't give a damn. New characters tend to fall into this thing frequently. Sorry 'bout that. Stuff that's not mine belongs to the respective owners of said stuff. If I get flames for this story, I'll giggle. What? How can you flame someone about their OWN ORIGINAL CHARACTERS? Oh, and dun' steal. This was started about the same time as the key fic, but no John and Domingo here. Sorry. Nothing NC-17 in here, either. Sorry- uh, not really. Geh. More later. A few new entries each week.)


Well, okay. This is the life of Mas Robinson, as chronicled by himself.

I decided that I'd write this out, seeing as maybe someday I'll get lucky and reap a shitload of money for this.

Or maybe not.

Well, anyway, I'm sixteen. Frickin sixteen and no license yet.

I attend a private boarding school. I run track and swim in the off season.

My GPA is.. I think it's a 3.2 right now, but I'm not sure.

My favorite things are music, good poetry, sarcasm, and sex.

Don't act so surprised. I'm a teenage male- of course I'm interested in sex. I don't engage in silly courtship with anyone, and I've never had a girlfriend. But I have had lovers. I don't take advantage of people, I'm always protected, I'm free of STDs and I don't sleep around.

Things I don't like are bubbly girls, prejudiced assholes, sluts, and cantaloupe.