Journal 4 - Goin' To South America; Lima, yo.

I went to JFK Airport. JFK in Turkey? You bet my fern on it! I got through security in a breeze. Cause I am just that awesome.

I went to sit in the back of the plane. Then a nice young lady, who looked about 80 or so, sat down next to me. She was so sweet. And listening to "Fireflies". Now, THAT is just messed up. Old people don't listen to electropop nowadays hit music. It just defies some serious laws that weren't officially activated yet.

Now I have it stuck in my head. You would not believe you're eyes... if ten million fireflies... lit up the world as I dance, dance. Dance dance. 'Cause I'ma dancer I'ma dancer in prancer, and I ate my pasta.... PASTA YEAH!!... pasta in my lemon sauce... saucy... a fox trot above my head. A sock hop beneath my bed.

Enough. She was annoying too. She kept on looking at me, and smilin. As if she got a problem with me. Did she have a problem with me? I bet she did have a problem with me. I bet she did. A man in front of me turned around, and shot me a look. Shot me it. SHOT. ME. IN. THE. STOMACH. BLOOD. GUSHING. LIKE. GUSHER. CANDY.

The flight was long. Like... 50 hours long. Reaallyy long. And then there was a guy. Pickin' his nose. I couldn't wait for the flight to be over. In fact, in the middle of the flight, I went to the bathroom for the rest of it. I was flushing stupid objects down the toilet. Like hair spray.

The bathroom was small, painted yellow. A disgusting yellow. The toilet was silvery chrome, and so was the sink. I opened the thing beneath the sink, and then there was a creepy old man in there, watching me. I closed the door. Enough is enough. There was also a stove there. This is where I cooked my meals.


Finally, the flight was over. I opened the door to see a long line of people, patiently waiting for me to exit the latrine. One threw a tomato at me when I exited.

What a nice crowd.

I walked off the plane, and tripped on the crack between the plane door and the metal hallway thingy that connects to the airport. Somehow, I pushed the plane to the side, making the gap wider. I fell through. It hurted.

Instantly, the air was alive with army helicopters. Sirens of distant police squad cars filled the air. I ran for my life.

"GET HIM!" Yelled the sergeant at me. At ME, the guy who just wanted some documents in exchange for a Micheal Jackson's CD.

I ran deep into the thick brush of the jungle, and I thought I lost them.

Well... I did. But then... oh... THEN.... I saw the boy. The boy was staring at me. This is what he looked like.
He was probably a smoker. Or a drinker.

And at probably around 12.... shameful. Just shameful.


He lifted his hand. And killed me. But I didn't die.

I took off into the jungle, running away from all the enemies of the world, and then I fell off a cliff into a surging waterfall. I drowned, but still didn't die. Duh. I crawled out of the water, choking and gasping, and took off once more. I didn't know where I was going. And I burst through the final clearing and then..... I was in China.

-The Wondrous Wonderfully Amazing Adventurous Journals of the Awesome Haman J. Palamanikikila.