Important items first: I can be seen in Street View of Google Maps. I won't say where for the sake of people out there who want to kill me (or otherwise.)

This leads to the second point: my sketchbook was found by the principal and returned to me by the counselor. This would've been excellent publicity, going through God knows how many school administrators before getting back to me four days later (I have no way of verifying, but I must assume the worst,) excellent for any art that isn't mine. I was told "there were some concerns." My, they are extremely perceptive, given if you were to flip through this book, you'd probably be horrified. If not, dying of laughter because you are a sick human being much like I am (except I don't condone any of the hating I've written.)

Might as well reveal passwords to my gaming accounts too, while I'm at it.

The sketchbook also has a few sketching gems and art pieces begging for redoing or development (into another story I can't currently afford to waste time on, albeit) such as space assassin catbots/batbots and alien wars.

So, the usual.

Had I been female, I'd likely be an exceptional anime artist or at least have less experience drawing heads explode (and probably not have a penchant for technical specifications of ballistic and directed-energy weapons.) I also suspect I wouldn't mind weighing so little, but that is a separate matter altogether.

On the other hand, I would have had a sheltered and rather uninteresting first sixteen years on this planet and I wouldn't be asking to clamber on to roofs just to see if I can signal my friend with a laser (useless because he's blocked by fucking trees! In the neighbour's yard!)

"Just one last racist comment."
"No. Go to bed."

-I just know there's a kid out there who's said it.