Fun, Fickle Fiction (for Free!) Fact, Opinion, Essay, & Review Spectacular Features, Calendrical Happenings, Media Gadflies Poetry & Lyric Advice, How To, & Self-Help Listicles Semi-Frequent Columns Correspondence (Letters To and Letters From) Interviews The Book Club Letter from the Editors Disquieting Modern Trends Birthday Cards to Celebrities New & Noteworthy The Y.P.aRt Gallery Et Cetera, Et Cetera, Et Cetera The Y.P.aRchives Submit

 Atøm | Spanish
supportbar.jpg Bea!   Creative Commons License
This journal is licensed under a Creative Commons License and powered by Movable Typo 4.01.
Y.P.R. & Co.

The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastily Written & Slopilly Edited
Thursday, January 19, 2006

From the Diary of Out of This World’s Evie Garland

Wednesday, February 2

School was O.K. today. Mrs. Halloway is so mean! I mean, sure my paper was one day late, but it was just one day! I guess I really don’t have any excuses, though …

God, I am SO in love with Brad Schwartz! I know I totally shouldn’t have, but Brad’s got P.E. third period, and, well, oops! My pointer fingers found their way together and I just happened to take a “wrong turn” into the guys’ locker room. His dong is huge! Sigh.

Saturday, February 12

Sometimes, I wish I were just a normal teenager, you know? I mean, it’s tough to wonder if your best friend is writing mean notes about you behind your back, but it’s even more of a burden to be able to verify it.

On a more gratifying note, I wrote “cock gargler” on her forehead in permanent marker while she was taking a dump yesterday. Revenge is cool.

Sunday, February 13

Brad’s not getting me anything for Valentine’s Day. Stopped time this morning, went over to his house and rifled through all his shit. Nothing. What a jerk.

Maybe I should touch him next time. (Naughty, naughty, Evie!) I mean, maybe I should let him in on my mind-boggling secret power. We could have so much fun together, a world built just for two! None of that swing-on-a-star-with-moonbeams-in-a-jar crap, neither. I’m talkin’ ’bout boning, baby!

Brad + Evie. Evie Schwartz. Brad and Evie Schwartz …

Monday, February 28

Bored today. Stole a burrito truck and drove it into Robinsons-May.

Wednesday, March 16

Ugh, this sucks! Mom’s making me see a psychiatrist about these “dad issues” she thinks I’m having. Whatever! The office smells like mothballs. Grody! And Dr. Benson is all, like, “So, tell me, Evie. Do you resent your father for leaving you when you were so young?” And I’m like, “Fuck no!” And he’s like, “But you’ve never had a chance to get to know him.” And I’m like, “Sure I have. He comes back to earth every once in a while in the form of a translucent orb. Duh!”

I’m the one with issues, Dr. Benson? I’ve heard you on the phone with your wife. How about your glaringly obvious inferiority complex? Two words, doctor: penis envy. I should know.

Friday, March 25

You know what’s really starting to bug me out? When I do the time-freeze thingy, I get this creepy feeling that the people around me, well, that some of them are faking it. Maybe I’m crazy and everyone’s just playing along?

Like yesterday, in the kitchen, Mom was making breakfast. I was fiending a smoke, so I froze time and was about to go out and light up when I noticed that she blinked. Twice.

I’m fully tripping out! Did she really move during a time-freeze? I keep telling myself I’m just seeing things. I mean, after all, there was a pancake suspended in mid-air at the time.

Wednesday, March 30

I just found out today that Brad asked Angie Denmark to the Spring Fling. I stopped the world at lunch today and cried for like four hours (obviously none of the clocks were working, so I can’t really be sure).
Sometimes, I wish I could turn invisible …

Then I remember that I can freeze time, and that Brad can eat shit.

And will … soon.

Saturday, April 10

Freudian slip—accidentally called Uncle Beano “Uncle Boner” today. Trust me, it was warranted.

Thursday, April 14

Have you ever seen what happens when you push a hot dog cart in front of a speeding locomotive? Evie has.

I really need sex.

Friday, April 22

I’ve been feeling unusually magnanimous this week, intermittently roaming the time-frozen streets in search of charity work. Since Monday, I’ve saved two children from drowning, robbed three (F.D.I.C.-insured) banks then anonymously distributed the money to homeless shelters, and done over seventy Meals-on-Wheels routes.

Charity work is tiring, though. I think I’ll stop.

Monday, May 2

Yeah, I’m back to my old self again. This past weekend I visited some folks in Chicago who were attempting to beat the Guinness World Record for largest house of cards. Close, but no cigar, assholes!

I’ve been thinking, I could get my name in that book pretty easily. Let’s see. Fastest hundred-meter dash? Longest time elapsed without taking a shit? It’s a world of possibilities when you’ve got a superpower.

Friday, May 6

Lots of chores and homework today. Oh, and saw eight penises, too.

Friday, May 27

I wonder how long it’ll take for this superpower thing to get old? Three, maybe four seasons?

Eric Feezell has appeared, among other places, at McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Opium, and 7-Eleven. He can be found on the InterWeb at ericfeezell.com.