pg9: The Lost Blog

This entry is called "page 9" even though it comes after page 10, because Alyssa was helpful enough to notice that I just totally skipped over 9 and hey, I've got this crazy OCD "Number All Your Entries" thing goin' on (which I think makes my blog stylish,) so I'm just going to pretend like this actually falls between #8 and #10. But since nothing interesting happened between 8 and 10, and it wouldn't make sense to call and entry between 10 and now "9", I'm going to use this entry to make up a fictional Blog entry. So here goes.

I woke up yesterday morning, and looked at the clock. 8:15 it said. I felt this incredible rush, like I was going to be late. Late for what? It hit me that I couldn't remember. Not only that, but I had no recollection whatsoever of who I was to begin with. Everything in my room looked foreign. I looked for signs of my life. The name on all the work I found, all the papers and little trophies read "Scott Williams" but that name meant nothing to me. So instead of going anywhere or doing anything, I spent all of that day rocking back and forth in the fetal position. Then I fell asleep and when I woke up I remembered who I was...

Miguel Sanchez, outlaw of the Baja peninsula. Viva la raza!

...aaaaaaaaaaaaand scene. Hoper you enjoyed that bizarre paragraph. I'll be back later with something interesting. (Or not.) Keep on Rockin'

Miguel Scott