Yowza.

So I'm kind of fearing for my life right now.

Because today on the way to 3rd period, I saw this really cheesey pink hat with rhinestones all over it on the floor.

Of course, I had to pick it up and wear it for as long as possible without being reprimanded by a teacher.

And then Katie and me decided to write stuff on it with permanent markers. Stuff like "HATS ARE FUN!".

Yeah. Bad idea.

Because then some really small, psychotic homegirl came up to me as I was putting it in my bookbag and was all, "AWWW, NO, BITCH! Ah KNO dat ain't ma hat! Didjoo fin' dat on the flo'?"

"Um, no, actually, this is my hat. I... bought it with money. That is mine. Yes."

Then she swiped it from me and said,

"Aw no you dint! Dass ma hat! Wha...? Wha the fuck? You wroted on ma hat?! Fuck you bitch dat hat costs me $20, you best give me dat money tomorrow cuz you pay fo' my hat bitch!!!!"

"I'm... sorry? The marker, it'll come out... it's washable marker. No biggie."

"Wha? Now you insultamatin' Biggie? Ah don' THINK so, bitch! You be triflin'!"

So she didn't really say that. But I would've laughed if she did. Then she probably would've pried my eyes out with her Krueger-inspired arcryllics.

Should've known a hat like that would belong to a head like that.

So do you guys have $20 I could borrow so my ass won't get beat tomorrow?

I'll pay you back. I promise.

I fear that girl so much. She could do so much carnage. She's a little firecracker; she's little, but she's quick.

Quick like a rabid fox.

I think there will be a cap firmly implanted in my ass tomorrow.

I actually do feel kind of bad. What if that hat really did cost her $20?

What if she's from, I don't know, the E-burg projects and she bought it with hat stamps?

Are there even hat stamps to begin with?

Because there should be.

That hat really was the funniest thing. I wish you could've seen it.

It looked like a gigantic, sparkly, wool condom.

Ouch.

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