This Journal Belongs to Ratchet Read Online Free

“get charmed,” I’m thankful that Dad needs my help and that no style will be required.

WRITING EXERCISE: Write a descriptive essay about a person you dislike.
    Edward J. Johnson. AKA Eddie J. or Pretty Boy Eddie. He walks around town acting like he owns the place, and actually, he kind of does because he’s so rich. He owns one restaurant, one gas station, three grocery stores, and one hardware store.
    If this town were a kingdom, he’d be the king. If it were a country, he’d be the president. If it were the world, he’d think he was God. But it’s only Blainesfield, so he’s just a big shot. Dad says thankfully enough people still use the common sense the Good Lord gave them, so he’s hasn’t been elected mayor; not yet anyway, but he might as well be the mayor because skinny, squirrely Benson Prindle who really did get elected mayor, doesn’t make a move without Eddie J.’s approval.
    But these are not the reasons I dislike Eddie Johnson. I don’t like him because of what he says to Dad.
    â€œWhy thank you for enlightening us with your highly scientific and most definitely accurate opinion about everything, Mr. Vance. We will take it all into careful consideration.”
    He says it as if he’s talking to a stupid kid with crazy ideas, and he says it as if not one word of what Dad says is worth listening to, let alone worth “careful consideration.” He’s sarcastic and snotty. And he says the same thing to Dad every time Dad speaks at the city council meetings because Eddie J., of course, is the city council spokesman. That’s why I dislike Edward J. Johnson.

WRITING EXERCISE: Write a narrative essay about your most embarrassing moment.
    Writing Format —NARRATIVE ESSAY: A factual piece of writing in which you express your ideas by telling a story.
    ONE of My Most Embarrassing Moments
    Dad makes me read the newspaper every day for social studies. So this morning I went outside to get the paper from the driveway, and when I did, Hunter and Evan came up the street on their bikes. When they saw me, Evan said really loud, “Hey, Hunter, I wonder if Ratchet’s dad can use his tools to break out of the slammer. I bet he’s not so handy in handcuffs.”
    I didn’t know what he was talking about until I picked up the newspaper and unrolled it. The blood drained from my head to my toes. I lost all feeling in my arms. Why? Because there on the front page I stared at a huge photo of my “most important person” in handcuffs. He was wearing another one of the T-shirts I hate.
    This one says, “If idiots were trees, this place would be an orchard.”
    Now, on top of my dad being the most un-normal dad in the world, he’s a convict too.
    Yesterday I thought Dad was out at the junkyard looking for parts.
    â€œWhy buy a new starter, when you might be able to find an old one?”
    How about because it’s easier, Dad?
    But Dad hadn’t really been out hunting for a starter. No wonder he’d gotten home so late. At breakfast he’d told me some story about running into some old friends and stopping for dinner. (Unless he’s friends with the Chase County Police Department, and they serve dinner down at the station in a holding cell, Dad had lied to me.) It wasn’t the first time.
    He said stretching the truth was sometimes necessary. To save the environment. Or to protect someone you love. (I wonder what the Good Lord thinks of Dad’s little lying theory?)
    The headline to the story about Dad read, “TRACTORS STOP FOR DEVELOPERS OF MOSS TREE PARK.” The caption under Dad’s photo said, “Environmental activist steals keys to construction vehicles in hopes of delaying development of Moss Tree Park.”
    In the article Dad says, “These morons think the only thing green is money. They’re going down!”
    I wonder why it’s so hard for Dad to just keep his mouth