Book Read: Diary of a Wimpy Kid

I found this book truly light and refreshing. It was really just like reading a diary of a wimpy kid. It kept bringing a lot of childhood memories.

Mr. Kulangot, for instance. Yeah! yeah! Gross! That's exactly it. Gross! We had this cousin from the province who once spent his summer vacation with us. We caught him tinkering his nose. I'm sure you know the rest of the story -- a lot of running!

Incidentally, the one and only Mr. Kulangot celebrated his 27th birthday yesterday. Happy birthday, cuz!

By the way, I was surprised I did not relate to Greg, the wimpy kid. I saw myself more in Rowley, the wimpier kid! Oh, well!

I liked a number of pages. In fact, I mini-post-it-ted them.

These days, I enjoy light readings as this which makes you think without the headaches! Let's see what happens in Book 2. Perhaps, even book 3 and the about-to-be-shipped book 4.

Methinks.. I miss my childhood when everything was as simple as an unopened 120-pack box of non-toxic,washable crayons equipped with a sharpener on a sunny Saturday morning.

By the way, the other day (around 1:30AM), while we were eating at MiniStop, I saw a kid in his pajamas with his mom buying some midnight snacks. It made me think. I want to sleep in pajamas!

Reading Now: Diary of a Wimpy Kid

I know. I know. You're probably thinking I'm such a retard. Who's denying, anyways?

Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid reminds me of my orangebook. Yes! I had a journal. And, yes! He had a name, orangebook. God bless his shredded soul.

Here's what happened. One day, I left orangebook in our living room. Papa found it and figured, what a nice, old orange notebook and conveniently cut it into small squares and placed it beside the phone. From journal to While-you-were-away note pad. That was the life of orangebook. A purpose-driven life I must say.

No, orange is not my favorite color. And, yes! I have really bad handwriting! I don't even want to start talking about my scribblings. Go figure!

Oh, and yeah! I was a wimpy kid. Now, I'm a wimpy retard. Where's my wooden bookmark? Time to read...