Category: Uncategorized

I had a substitute band teacher because the actual band teacher had what I think was either a stroke or a heart attack. It happened about two days ago when all the classes had to lock their doors because of a “medical emergency”. As usual, the teachers were trying to hush everything up as to not cause an uproar, but of course, news spread anyway. In my opinion, it couldn’t hurt to actually let the students know what was going on once in a while. Since I’m not part of any gossip groups, I was one of the last people to hear about this. Even now, I don’t know most of the details. I sort of forgot about things until today, because I had band class. I wondered that since the “medical emergency” happened in the middle of the day, the band teacher might have been teaching during the stroke/heart attack. If the incident happened during class, some kids might have seen it. Of course, this is all conjecture, since I don’t know what periods the band teacher is teaching. Evens so, if I could just talk to one of the kids who might have seen things go down, I could write a whole story about it. I suppose it would be rude for me to profit off of a person’s misfortune, but it’s not like I’m making fun of the guy or anything. Anyway, I was ready to go interview some people before school started when the bell rang. This is when I forgot about my mission and headed to class.

Our substitute teacher turned out to be the math teacher, and it was obvious from the moment I stepped into the classroom that she did not know a thing about music. She told us that we would be heading to her math class for study hall which is code for “I don’t know how to teach a band class so just come to my room and do your homework”. Just as we were about to leave, the intercom announced the times for some club photos, and coincidentally, the band photos were first. So, everyone put their belongings back down and headed to the gym.

I have some pretty bad experiences with school pictures, and the reason for that is because I’m short. Every single time we took a photo in elementary school, you would find me along with the other shorties kneeling down in the front row. This time, however, I was confident that I was now tall enough to not be sent to the front row. For the first time, I wouldn’t be at the bottom of the picture. I was seated in the third row, which isn’t at the top with the tall kids, but is still a respectable spot for the school photos.

“Hey you, move down one,” said the photographer.

Ouch. Now I was in the second row, which is pretty bad, but at least it wasn’t the front row.

The photographer looked around a bit, and then told me to move to the front row.

Why? I was taller than all the kids in the front row. I probably stuck out like a sore thumb. Why was I with the shorties?

After band photos was ski club photos, so I stayed behind while the rest of my class moved on go to the sub’s room. I guess I was the only person who remembered pictures were being taken, because for the longest time, I sat alone on the bleachers awkwardly while the photographer set up his equipment for the next shoot. Once an eternity passed, the ski club supervisor appeared, along with just one member. Since it appeared that everyone forgot about the photos, the supervisor sent the other club member to the office to announce on the intercom: “Ski club members, get your sorry butts down here.”

The photo shoots were over, and I didn’t know where to go. I sprinted over to the band room to grab my stuff, but I was lost after that. The sub said that everyone was in Room 112, but I didn’t know where that was. I ended up stalking this one classmate until I arrived at Room 112.

Next period was math, and nothing happened.

Art was after math, and I hate art. I like looking at art, but I don’t like making it. On top of that, our art teacher is practically insane. What usually happens is that the annoying kids start talking too loud, and then she starts going wild and yells at everyone. It may just sound like something that happens once in a while, but this happens about four time each class. One time, the art teacher was in a bad mood because some kid was throwing erasers at people, so when I asked her a simple question (“What Exquisite Corpses sheet are you talking about?”) she started going nuts on me for absolutely no reason.

Lunch is usually pretty good, aside from the fact that this kid keeps throwing food at me. After lunch is recess, or as the lunch monitors call it, “activity time”. I don’t see why all the adults feel the need to replace names, even though everything already has a perfectly good name. There was another sub for “activity time”, and she was pretty strict. Or, she tried to be. She tried to get everyone to shut up and play chess or something, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re an old lady in a room full of children. The entire class she sat at her desk, occasionally screeching with her scratchy voice, “Sit down!”

Science is my worst subject, but the teacher is so lenient that I could sleep through the tests and still past. It’s not like I don’t give effort. For most of the writing questions, I put a detailed and thoughtful answer. Sometimes, though, my answer is too long and my hand hurts and I just want to go home, so I write the bare minimum.

Question: How are both the paper clip system and the English measurement system for measuring mass similar?

What I Wrote: Neither are commonly used around the world.

 

Today, we were doing a lab, which meant I wouldn’t have to fill out some boring essay question. Of course, things weren’t that simple. You had to use a pipette to extract exact amounts of water from the beaker to the test tube. The point of the lab was not to teach us anything interesting but to ease us into using lab equipment. It was all easy to use, besides the test tube, because it didn’t have a little beak at the top, which meant it was harder to pour stuff out of it. I ended up spilling a lot of dyed water everywhere, but it was fine.

Recently, my grade had to take a spelling test to see if you qualify for a spelling bee. I did not want to be in the spelling bee, but it would be incredibly shameful for a genius of my caliber to not make the cut. After I made it to the top twenty kids in the grade, I was planning to drop out, just so I could waste a spot on the spelling bee roster. However, I made a mistake in my calculations. I knew that other kids had the same idea as me, but I never thought that it would result in my demise. When the staff called a few other kids and me up to the podium, they told us that we had to participate. At first I was confused, because I was told that joining was optional. I suppose so many people had dropped out of the spelling bee that they couldn’t afford to lose more people. Thus, I await my doom at second period this Friday, waiting to be humiliated for my frankly subpar spelling. I mean, I could easily win the spelling bee if I really tried, but I want to make it fair for everyone. So, I will only be using 4% of my Master Spelling Power.

After lunch, the staff sends us to this random room because they don’t know what to do with us. Most of the time, I end up playing a boring card game while almost everyone else hides in the back and plays on their phones. I lost in chess today (because I wasn’t trying). Afterwards was science. We have assigned seats, but since there was as sub, everyone sat where they pleased. The sub has a really think accent, and everyone kept asking her to repeat things because no one could understand her. We then had to watch a video about Galileo, who just like me, was an unappreciated genius of his time. For example, I think my sarcastic humor is on point, but some simpletons just aren’t picking up on it. I think when you can say something in a completely serious tone and people will still know you’re being sarcastic is when you’ve perfected the craft. If you say something stupid and people already know you aren’t stupid, they’ll be able to pick up on the sarcasm. Sadly, the people I make sarcastic remarks to seem to believe that I really am stupid, which is just preposterous.

Actually, I think I’ve become too much of a genius. Every month, you have to submit stories to the ELA teacher, and everytime my ELA teacher gives me back my writing, she says I am too sarcastic. Of course, my masterful writing is appreciated by none. Mind you, my ELA teacher is actually a science teacher, but she got forced to work as an ELA teacher. If anyone can criticize my writing, it should be me, because I am the most competent writer of all time.

Subjectively, the best web log on this site is me. Objectively, the best web log on this site is me. Is this any of the other bloggers’ fault? No, it’s not their fault they cannot compare to an absolute master web logger like me. However, even though they are clearly inferior to me, some people attempt to claim that they have the greatest web log on this site. This is absolute blasphemy, nonsense, folderol, and other big words I’ll search up on a thesaurus. Such asinine (another word I found on a thesaurus) claims should be completely disregarded. Unfortunately, some people take this rubbish seriously, which leads me to believe that I am not getting the respect I deserve. I’m famous for my masterful writing, yet no one cares. All of my classmates know who I am. If that doesn’t make you famous, I don’t know what does. Still, a famous person like me keeps getting the worst fate.

Just the other day, I tagged along with my grandmother to the store, mainly to buy snacks and a gift card for the Switch. Before you call me greedy, just know that a world-renowned web logger such as I deserves a lavish lifestyle such as this. When I got home and scratched the back of the card, the worst possible thing happened. I accidentally scratched off the code, which made the card absolutely worthless. To add insult to injury, I had used my own money to buy it. Absolutely preposterous. How can a first-rate web logger like me be allowed to fall into such a cruel fate as this. It’s all terrible. My life is terrible.

Which is great, because it would make a great story. I can see it now, Cool and Skillful Master Web Logger’s Woeful Tale of Tragedy. In fact, this is what I’m titling my next book.

Today we will be discussing the top ten chess pieces. Chess has been around for about twenty years, and it’s about time someone celebrated the pieces that make up the game.

Number Ten:

The Priest

The priest is probably the worst piece in the game because of its bad movement range and vulnerability. On top of being garbage, you also lose when he dies. The only redeemable quality he has is the funny cross on his head. For these reasons, I must place the priest at the bottom of this list.

 

Number Nine:

The Queen

 If the priest was not in this game, the queen would surely be at the bottom of this list. First of all, she can only move in eight directions! Compare that to the castle’s four, or the circle head’s ability to transform into other pieces. In conclusion, the queen is utter garbage and you should not use her.

 

Number Eight:

 

 

Number Seven:

The Horse

The horse is a mediocre piece. Not bad, not good. Just kidding, he’s TRASH. He moves in an L, which is already a bad sign. The horse takes forever to move into killing position. In fact, he’s even worse than the queen and and priest! He’s the worse piece in the game!

 

Number Six:

The Frowny Face

The frowny face can only move diagonally, which means he can’t kill half the pieces on the board. Also, because he is limited to diagonal movements, he can only move in four directions. Compare that to the castle who can move horizontally and vertically, which means he can move in four directions. The frowny face is clearly just an inferior version of the castle.

 

Number Five:

 

Number Four:

 

Number Three:

The Castle

It’s pretty good.

 

Number Two:

 

Number One:

The Circle Head

The circle head is the best piece. That is why there are eight of him. First of all, he can move in one direction. One direction! That’s my favorite band. Now compare that to the queen, who can only move in eight directions. Stupid queen. The circle head can also turn into other pieces. Clearly the best piece in the game.

I got out of bed, took a shower, and headed downstairs. Some people were already waiting, and we all headed out to somewhere. Just like the last location, there was a giant group of tour guides trying to get some gullible tourists to go on one of their tours. Unfortunately, we were the gullible tourists. After everyone piled into the two vans, we drove off to our destination. It was a church. Not a regular church. I run down church. It’s already bad enough that I have to go to church outside of vacation. I don’t see why I have to go to church during vacation. The church was built into the side of a cliff, so one side of the wall was just rock. It was all pretty boring, so I started teasing Khoi, or as the adults would call it, sexually harassing a poor young innocent boy for absolutely no good reason and also murdering his family and everyone he loves. I told him a story about Bigfoot, and that’s when I learned he gets scared easily. Imagine how he would act if he saw some dead bodies.

After the church was some random picture-taking spot on the side of a cliff, and after that was the catacombs. I wasn’t allowed to take any pictures, which was understandable but lame nonetheless. It was a pretty eerie walk with a bunch of corpses lining the walls, as if they were staring into your soul. After a while though, things got pretty dull. There’s only so much fun you can have staring at the deceased. Actually, I don’t think you’re supposed to have fun looking at dead babies. As we were getting back into the vans, Khoi tried to take TQ’s  spot in the back of the car, with the rest of the cool kids. I told Khoi that this was a fool-free zone, and he should clear out. After a lot of nagging, Khoi left and TQ went into her rightful seat.

Throughout the car ride, I said jokes at Khoi’s expense. I probably would’ve teased him more if I hadn’t run out of insults. In retrospect, I probably should not have done that, because it probably caused the next incident. However, the past is the past, and I can’t do anything about it know. As we were all exiting the vans at a town, Khoi said something. Then TL said something back. This is probably when Khoi snapped. I heard some screeching, and when I turned around, I saw Khoi throwing a hissy fit. I won’t write what he said here because he said some big boy words that are not okay for this family friendly website. He also kicked me, though it didn’t hurt in the slightest. Khoi’s father had to drag him away. And that’s where the first part ends, because I’m too lazy to continue writing.

When I tried to get on this website, they said they’d I’d better get the heck out of there because the website was not secure. Of course, I didn’t care and went in anyway, because I haven’t stored any valuable information in this site. The reason I’m writing is because my father wanted me to. However, there’s nothing to write about. Nothing notable happened. For Christmas, the only things worth mentioning were the video games. Everything else was candy and board games and gift cards I’ll never use. I didn’t get anything from my mother’s side of the family, though I wasn’t expecting any, because I’m pretty sure I’m not too popular down there. Nothing else happened.

My first day off of school was uneventful, just like every other day. I got out of bed. I brushed my teeth. I went downstairs. I ate breakfast. I did tedious and monotonous chores. I played on my phone. I sat down. I walked around for an hour. I went to bed.

Relatives are supposed to be coming over today. My father said they’d be here around noon, if they made the flight. Noon is at 12. It’s 4. That either means my father is wrong or they missed the flight or both. There’s nothing to do, which is why I’m writing this. Nothing is still better than working, though. The worst part about this is that there’s nothing to write about. Of course, I could write a boring post about how my day was (cough cough). I’ve been considering going outside, but there’s snow so I can’t play basketball. Another problem is that my neighbor might spot me, and I’d be stuck outside for hours. I could draw, but that’s hard and takes too much effort just for one mediocre looking piece of paper. Some presents suddenly showed up under the Christmas tree, and I’ve been wondering if I should open mine to see what I have. It isn’t worth it though, because I’ll probably pull out a pair of socks once I unwrap my presents. I hate practicing the piano and the TV doesn’t work. Then my grandmother said I have to go to church with her. I hate going to church. It’s not that I dislike Christians or anything. It’s that everything in church is boring. And I can already hear some adults screeching in my ear, “You’re not in church to play, you’re here to pray.” I don’t know how to pray, nor do I particularly want to. Besides, I’ve been dragged along to church so many times that I’m sick of it. Just because my family believes in God doesn’t mean I have to. I’d rather wallow at home in my boredom than pray to someone who may or may not exist. My grandmother pestered me to go with her, told me that I’m a horrible child, and left. I don’t know why I’m supposed to go with her since all I ever do is stand there for an hour. She could bring a wooden chair to church and it would do the same thing. I think it’s unfair that I have to convert to a religion just because the rest of my family has.

There’s nothing else to write about. I could complain about the things that happen to me, but most of them are just minor inconveniences. They start to stack up and annoy me, but people would rather read about a major inconvenience. Even I will admit reading about how your house burned down is more entertaining than reading about how you accidentally spilled some toothpaste on the floor.

I’ve been staring at the screen for ten minutes wondering what to write. There’s nothing to write.

You are given a choice: go to Rome or go to kids’ club. This can be referred to as being between a rock and a hard place. This is because both choices are equally terrible. If you’re clever, you’ll learn to avoid the situation where you’d have to choose between these two.  I was not clever. These were the two choices presented to me, and I was unsure of which to choose. I knew that there was a 100% chance that I would hate the kids’ club. Although I had never been to Rome, I knew there would be an 85% chance I wouldn’t like. After thinking it through logically, I went with Rome. This was a mistake.

After sending the babies to kids’ club, I switched cards with Khoi’s grandmother because you need your own card to leave the ship. I was mainly only going to Rome for some pictures. My father was nagging me about those, so I had to get some. Not many people know, but I’m actually a professional photographer. I’ve also taken some videos, but I accidentally recorded some upside down, so half of them are worthless. Anyway, after exiting the ship, we went on a bus to some random place. This is when my trip to Rome went sour. I was under the assumption that we’d all be walking around while exploring Rome. This was not the case. There were some people with giant signs at the bus stop, trying to sucker some tourists into buying a bus tour. They’re annoying, but I understand that people need to make a living. I thought we would just ignore them while the suckers paid for the tours. Unfortunately, Khoi’s father is a sucker. Thus, we all piled into a giant van and took off to somewhere. There was a sign inside that said they had free Wi-Fi, so I was pretty excited due to the fact that I had been deprived from any type of internet for the last few days. I was planning to write my blog while on the trip, so the events were still fresh on my mind, so I was about to write something when I learned that the internet sucked. Khoi’s father is a sucker who got suckered into getting into this van and I got suckered into believing the Wi-Fi worked. The van was filled with suckers.

After a millennium of driving, we arrived at our destination. Our destination turned out to be this giant Colosseum. At least, I think it was. We never actually went inside. To any other person, they probably would’ve thought, Wow, this is cool! I was not any other person. I was an irritated boy that had just spent several hours in the car. Is this it? is what I thought when I saw the building. To this day, I still don’t know what the building was. I still took some pictures though, because it looked ancient and most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an actual Roman building and an imitation.

We all piled back into the van to our next destination. This time, we were at Campo Marzio. I think. It was a a city looking place with large buildings on both sides of the road. Shoppers were walking around like it was a giant outdoor shopping mall. Everyone was carrying an umbrella, so if you watched from above, I’m sure it would look like a lot of moving circles. It pretty much was a mall with all the shops they had. However, just like the stores in London, most of them seemed to be selling fashion items, while I was just looking for food and souvenirs. We stopped at a cafe where we were supposedly getting a bite to eat. This was a lie. A few minutes after I sat down, my relatives kicked me out so we could go sightseeing. There was not much to see. A large flight of stairs led up to a giant church. I personally don’t believe in God, but the rest of my family does, so I was dragged along with them. Near the church was a stone engraved with Latin. I asked if it was written in Roman. TD said that they spoke Latin, not Roman. It appears that my dry sarcasm and comedic genius goes unappreciated by none. There wasn’t much to do inside the church. The only thing you could do is set things on fire. Candles, to be specific. I suppose they’ve learned nothing since Notre Dame burned down. You’re supposed to pay to light the candles, but I did it anyway without paying. That brings my criminal acts up to two: Leaving an unflushed toilet and not paying to set things on fire. I think it’s stupid anyway. It’s kind of sinful to try to profit off of some Christians trying to pray to God. Suddenly, that klutz TL accidentally blew out someone’s flames, along with their ticket to heaven. Nice going.

I really wanted to go back to the ship at this point, but these are my relatives we’re talking about. We still had about an hour before the van would come back for us. I’m pretty sure Khoi’s father did that on purpose so we would be bored. I returned to the cafe along with everyone else, and I finally got some gelatin. To share. With TL. I didn’t feel like eating after that. If you want more information about the cafe, watch my video log, which is going on my Youtube channel. There wasn’t much to take pictures of at the cafe, besides the gelatin and a statue’s behind. Then we finally left.

I wish there was something to write about our last destination, but I can’t. Nothing interesting happened, and we weren’t at an interesting place. So I’ll skip this one over.

When we got back to the ship, I headed inside first because everyone walks slow. Then I realized I could only go to the Boom Room because I hadn’t traded cards with Khoi’s grandmother. Once I entered the Boom Room, Stranger 1 kicked me out and told me to go to Khoi’s room and that they’d let me in. So I walked alone to Khoi’s room. Then I got lost. There were signs pointing me to the right directions, but I was on the opposite side of the ship. Therefore, I ended up walking down the same identical hallways again and again, wondering how to get to the room. I walked and walked and walked and walked. It took me about ten minutes just to go from one room to another. At last, I arrived at the room and knocked on the door. No response. I try again. Nobody. I try one last time. Nothing. Now what? I paced around near the stares which caused some people to stare at me. I thought of going back to the Boom Room for help, but it would take a year to return back there because I hadn’t discovered the shortcut on floor 6 yet. So I paced around some more until I decided to suck it up and endure the mundane walk back to the room. This was the exact time that the other boomers showed up, and I traded cards with Khoi’s grandmother. And then I had to walk back again to Khoi’s room. When I got there, they said I had to go to the buffet on floor 15. Great. The buffet again. I had the buffet for breakfast as well. I was dying of thirst anyway, so I went up to the buffet and got a lot of water. Another thing about the buffet is that they only serve juice during breakfast. Why? Just because it’s free doesn’t mean you have to deprive me of the things I need to live.

We ended up playing video games in my room, but Khoi was being an annoying brat by stealing the controllers and such. Eventually, the adults whisked him off somewhere. Kids get bored easily, so we ended playing with TL’s dirty shoe. I don’t know what came over me that made me decide to play with her shoe. I must’ve been delirious since I was so thirsty. There was a minibar with a lot of cold soda in it, but the adults are always harping on about how expensive it is. They act like it costs a fortune just to buy a can of soda.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Khoi and Vien were messing around and making a racket, but they eventually fell asleep. I sat awake, wondering what we would be doing tomorrow. Perhaps we would be doing something that didn’t include me being dragged along by the adults doing mundane tasks and waiting for no apparent reason. This all happened.

Every year on December 25, people celebrate presents. Not Jesus’s birth. Just presents. This is because humans are greedy by nature. Is this a bad thing? Probably. Does this matter to anyone? No. I think the reason that Christmas is the most popular holiday is that it’s the most generous one. Your birthday or Halloween are probably your second favorite because you also receive things on those days. St. Patrick’s Day or Thanksgiving are far less popular due to the simple fact that you don’t get much on those days. Of course, I’m not suggesting that people only care about the commercial side of Christmas. Getting school off is always something to celebrate. I’m simply saying that giving presents are the main point of Christmas, and is something you should not disregard as simply spoiling others. You can probably see where I’m going with this now.

I think I make my interests very clear. I like video games. I also like sports and reading. But ask anyone. They’ll say that video games are my main interest. So for Christmas, here is what I want:

 

I don’t actually know what I specifically want. Video games, obviously, but I don’t know which ones. People always say something obnoxious, like “Wow, look at that big present you got. How lucky are you?” Yes, they’re right. The present is big. I am lucky to have a big box. But I know very well that the contents inside are something along the lines of clothes or a Lego set. Before you say that I’m an ungrateful brat, I’d just like to point out that Lego sets cost just as much (some even more) than a video game. I saw a Star Wars Lego set online that costed somewhere in the seven hundred dollar range.

Of course, I’m being hypocritical. I do not know what any of my relatives’ interests are, besides Khoi. So when I was sent to buy some Christmas presents, I bought the lamest things imaginable. If you’re one of those pretentious people who pretend to care about the “surprise” of finding out what your presents are, you better stop reading now.

While I was walking near the back of the store, I saw something that caught my attention. It was a little key chain. Actually, it was a Tamagotchi. Actually actually, it was a Tamagotchi knock-off. If you don’t know what a Tamagotchi is, it was this really popular toy in the 90’s. It was a tiny device where you had a digital pet to take care of. You had to check on it every once in while, or it would die. Anyway, the thing I was staring at was a copy of that. It was called Digipets or something. I’m 99% sure that it does not work. I’m 100% percent sure that if it does work, it will not be fun to use at all. In other words, it was a perfect present for any of the Thucs.

Near the front of the store was another item that caught my eye. It was a Gameboy. If you do not know what a Gameboy is, it is also another popular digital 90’s toy. For a moment, I thought I would be able to buy an actual Gameboy, and at such a low price, too. Then I looked at the box closer. It was actually an alarm clock that looked like a Gameboy. There was also a watch that was designed to look like a Gameboy. If this was a regular looking watch, I wouldn’t have bought it. However, it had the video game aesthetic and I figured Bien would like it, not because he needs to check the time, but because he’d like fiddling with the buttons on the watch.

After stalking around the back of the store again, I saw something that really grabbed my attention. It was a Pro controller. A Pro controller is pretty much a controller for the Switch, but it looks like an actual PS4 controller instead of a red and blue stick. Pro controllers are about 60 dollars, so I knew the chances of me ever getting one were slim. But here it was, standing right in front of me, with just a 15 dollar price tag on it. At first, I was excited, but then that quickly turned into suspicion. I began to wonder why it was so cheap. It had pictures of Pokemon on it, but there was no way they would lower the price just because it looked ugly. I read every single word on the box to figure out what was wrong with the controller. It was an official product from Nintendo, so that meant it wasn’t some cheap off-brand controller. Then I saw it. “Wired controller.” Wired controllers have a wire connecting it to the system, so you have to sit pretty close to the TV. Wireless controllers, on the other hand, allow you stand way further, and it also eliminates the chances of some idiot tripping over the wire while you’re playing. I can guarantee you that at least one of my cousins will in some way accidentally touch the wire. Even so, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get an actual controller. This wasn’t my first choice of controller, but it’d have to do until I got a Pro one.

It was at this point that I met up with my grandmother. She had bought socks for someone. Imagine receiving socks for Christmas. Waiting 364 days and getting socks. Of course, I didn’t say anything about it because that would be rude. She also bought this beer thing for my father. I doubt he’ll do anything with it. We then walked to the far side of the store where my grandmother found this sketchbook that had a black zipper case and several different colored pencils. I figured either one of the younger Thucs would want it, though they’re not exactly what you’d call artists. My grandmother bought Vinh a giant Tic-Tac-Toe board. She thought it would be a good gift. I feel bad for Vinh.

We didn’t buy much else. All in all, I think the present I got were pretty lame. I think I’ve learned my lesson. Christmas isn’t about getting presents, not at all. What it’s really about is giving. And by giving, I mean giving your relatives cheap and lame presents just to fill your quota for the year. Now I finally understand why I never get video games for Christmas.

If you are not an absolute fool, you should know the history of humanity. Everyone knows that Albert Einstein created the English language and also wrote the Bible in English. You may also know that Albert Einstein’s real name is Chris. This is how Christianity was created. Albert Einstein was making up more English words when the dinosaurs attacked. Einstein had to leave his work and defend against them. These were called the Crusades. But then, after the wars, Albert Einstein got married to Elsa Einstein. This was also her name before they got married. These two had a child. His name was Christopher Columbus. At this time, everyone stopped reading the Bible and thought the earth was flat. Columbus had obtain the secret knowledge from Albert Einstein, so he knew the earth is actually square shaped. To prove that the earth was a square, he told the Canadian king that he would go to Asia. Columbus was not able to find Asia because he didn’t obtain the secret knowledge from Albert Einstein. Columbus did not want to go back to Canada empty-handed, so he invented North America and tricked everyone into thinking it was Asia. The creation of North America lead to more people beginning to speak American. American was too hard though, so they reverted back to English. This lead to the creation of England.

In conclusion, I’d like to add one more thing. Fools do not know how England was invented. However, even bigger fools think that pronunciation is pronounced pro-nounce-ee-a-shun. It is actually pronounced exactly like it’s spelled. Search it up; I’m right.