Blog of a Bully Read Online Free

hotdog?”
    “A little-dabble-do.”
    She gave a quarter smile and walked off. How depressing. That was my best original joke. That’s when Hercules came up behind me and asked, “Who’s Fred Flintstone?” Yet another generation wasted on pointless cartoons. To all my readers, if you don’t know who Fred Flintstone is, then you need to get off my blog now and look up an episode or two of The Flintstones . It’s not that The Flintstones is the greatest cartoon ever, it’s just that you weren’t raised right. It’s not your fault; it’s your parents fault, and I guarantee if you ask them, they’ll know all about the Flintstones.
    Well, hopefully that joke broke some of the ice for Angela and me.
    Later, I realized I had forgotten to bring a lunch to school. I was tempted to ask Angela for money, but I wasn’t about to press my luck. So I asked Cowardly Donald. He was more than happy to lend me a couple bucks. I promised him I would repay him tomorrow morning.
    Cowardly Donald thanked me from the bottom of his heart for beating up Buzz. I tried to clear my bully name by telling him it was an accident, but he wouldn’t have it. I think he likes the idea that I could possibly be a bully.
    I got a reply from my old friends in California. They e-mailed me. I send each of them a stamped letter, but the most they could do is e-mail me. Cheap skates. Joe asked who I was, and Marcos asked if I stole his video game. I guess it is safe to say I no longer have friends in California. Looking back, I realize those friends were using me for answers on tests and as a partner for projects because I did all the work. And they loved my video games. I’m tired of having to buy friends. For once I would like someone to be my friend because he or she thinks I’m awesome. What am I doing wrong?
    You will have a prosperous life.
    Yeah, a friendless, prosperous life.
     

Wednesday, September 8th, 2010
    7:07 p.m.
    No Fear
     
    When I got on the bus today, I noticed Hercules looked very intimidated by me. Was it the ten push-ups I did before going to bed last night? I don’t think so, because the other students were looking at me as if they expected me to snap at any moment. I did put on deodorant, right?
    When I ran into Angela, I found out what was up. She was shocked that I would do such a horrible thing to Cowardly Donald. I had no idea what she was talking about.
    Come to find out, Donald told everyone that I stole his lunch money and threatened his first-born child’s life. I was in complete shock. I told Angela that I could never do anything like that, but I don’t think she believed me.
     
    I had to talk to Donald right away. I had to know if there was some kind of miscommunication on his part, because I definitely did not threaten his life (I might now). Something was terribly wrong and it was making me look bad.
    I saw Cowardly Donald talking in the hall. Something was different about him. He was standing straight; he looked proud and happy as he was talking to a group of girls who were soaking up his every word and move. If he leaned against a locker, the girls leaned with him, and one even had her head on his shoulder. The story he made up about me has made him a star. I decided I couldn’t possibly destroy this for him. He was no longer a coward.
    I endured the dirty looks, the pointing, and the attention. The story became rather funny. One version of the story was that I threatened Donald with a gun and stole his money.
    Another was about Donald defending himself with martial arts like Bruce Lee until I sucker punched him in the back. But my all-time favorite version is that Donald sacrificed his wallet in exchange for me not harming a baby. When girls in my classes asked me how I could hurt an innocent baby, I would simply say, I was checking the baby for a bomb, and it was fully loaded.
    At the end of the day, I caught up with Donald and asked him what was going on. He explained that if I can go from geek to bully in