Umbrella Challenge. Panda Umbrella. 280 words.

...whoa... I'm bored and French is bad for your mind... although at the same time a bit refreshing in a nasty way.

I stared at the window in the icy, unpleasant, and incredibly unsunny month of December. In my hands was a Panda Umbrella, which was one fourth my size, that I'd stolen from my five year old cousin yesterday. So I'm eighteen and I have a cute frilly, panda umbrella, go stalk a streetlamp. It doesn't help that I'm male, and undeniably straight –I'm sure- with a fixation for pandas, and its stupid December. Why can't it be April? Why can't it rain? Why can't panda loving be a manly man hobby? Damn the injustice. Imagine having to hide your panda items from your friends, because they'd never let it go. It's pretty impossible when you've got panda wall paper. I just tell my friends I'm homeless so they can't come over. I don't think they believe me. At least my pandas are safe from ridicule. I stare furiously at the clouds and try to will them with my great mind powers to turn that ugly shade of grey and poop water. It snows. I glare and march outside with my panda umbrella and start to curse at the clouds, getting a little absorbed with shaking that darn cute umbrella around, when I saw my ninety two year old neighbor staring at me, chin resting on the floor (that's not healthy)… at my pants. Or… lack thereof. I open the umbrella, hide behind it and slink back in the house, red as a beet. Tomorrow everyone would hear about this, stupid gossiping neighbors and my panda fetish and run away pants. Stupid umbrella, stupid December, stupid nosy old lady, stupid… adorable, lovable, edible, pandas. Erm… I meant enjoyable… really. I did.