Journals Info

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Deleted member 1693

Guest
Aw, I'd like to see more of these (or at least proper links).
 

Amigo22

Super Moderator
I could do some more journals. I'm not sure which episodes have been done already though apart from the ones I did.
 

tjpeople

Site Administrator
Staff member
Well i wasn't fully involved with the journals but from from what david says any links he made are gone and unrecoverable. But i think most of the text used is posted in this thread right?

If people want to do more journals/organise the ones we have, that would be great, and id make a page for them on the main site.
 

Alle

New member
If I was to write an entry under the name of a character about the events of an episode that no one else has covered yet, would that be accepted?
 

tjpeople

Site Administrator
Staff member
oh yes! please do!

everyone is free to write as many journal entries as they like. and as i said i will incorparate them into the main site soon.
 

Amigo22

Super Moderator
I've just done another journal for Francis, for Home Alone 4. What do you think?

Francis – Home Alone 4

This weekend was the first time I was home from Military School. Mom and Dad were going off to a family wedding, and I was in charge of my brothers. I was hoping to show them the coolest thing they’d ever seen, but they were acting really weird – all they wanted to do was sit and watch Golf on TV. Golf is like the most boring sport ever. So there I was, sitting on the couch, bored out of my mind until my best friend Richie called. As soon as he heard there were no parents in the house, he and my other two friends Circus and Justin, arrived to party. They totally trashed the place. Circus even broke a cinder block with his head!

After the cops took my friends away, my brothers were eager to clean up the mess before Mom and Dad got home. Malcolm told me that Mom and Dad were thinking about letting me come home from Military School, and that this weekend was either a test for me, or a trap. If I did good, they’d let me come home, and if I didn’t, I was still stuck at Military School. I didn’t buy it though – as if they’d decide my whole future based on how I behave over one weekend, especially without even telling me about it. It would be too arbitrary and unreasonable. But my brothers were determined, so we had to do it. We made the place totally spotless – but we realised it was too clean. Our house had never looked that clean before. It was too clean. So we got to work dirtying it up again, complete with muddy footprints along the walls, crumbs of food and toenail clippings.

We were happy with our work until the bookcase collapsed on his head. We had to get him to the hospital, but Mom had checked the odometer on the car. So, what did we do? I drove the car backwards. At least we made it to the hospital without being caught by the cops. Malcolm needed stitches, and it was going to cost us $400. We thought we were screwed until Malcolm’s Genius IQ saved us – he called his teacher, who agreed to pay the bill for us. We went home and celebrated with ice cream, thinking we were safe – until Mom and Dad got home and found out about Malcolm’s injury. As if it’s our fault that Dad uses dodgy nails. Now I’m still stuck here at Military School. I hate this place!
 

yardgames

Retired Administrator
I like the premise, but it didn't seem like I was reading it from young Francis' point of view. It seemed too intelligent to me. I don't know, don't take my criticism the wrong way. I enjoyed it; just didn't feel like it fully embraced the Francis voice. Does that make sense? But keep writing by all means they're great to read!
 

Amigo22

Super Moderator
Thanks for the feedback, Sam. I re-wrote it so it should sound more Francis-like now. Here's the new version:

------

This weekend was supposed to be totally cool. It was the first time I was home from Military School, and since Mom and Dad were going off to a family wedding, I was in charge of my brothers. As soon as Mom and Dad left (but not before Mom gave her usual lame pre-going away talk), I was eager to show my brothers something totally cool that a guy at Military School showed me. But they were acting really weird. All they wanted to do was sit and watch Golf on TV. Golf is like the most boring sport ever.

So there I was, sitting on the couch, bored out of my mind until my best friend Richie called. He and the guys had heard I was in town and wanted to come hang out with me. As soon as they heard there were no parents in the house, they rocked up ready to party. They totally trashed the place, but who cares? Our house is a dump anyway.

Of course, my brothers were desperate to clean up the mess before Mom and Dad came home. That’s when I learned why they were acting so strange – Malcolm had overheard Mom and Dad talking about letting me come home, if I did good this weekend. Yeah, whatever. As if they’d decide my whole future based on how I behave over one weekend without even telling me about it. But when my brothers told me they really wanted me to come home, I agreed to clean up. So we did. And I have to admit, we did pretty good. The house had never been so clean before. Uh-oh. Not a good sign. So we dirtied it up again, and were just adding the finishing touches when the bookcase collapsed on Malcolm’s head, and he needed stitches. We had to figure out how to get him to the hospital without Mom finding out we took the car: I drove the car backwards. It was so cool - and we didn’t even get busted by the cops.

At the hospital, we learned the bill was going to cost us $400. We thought we were screwed until Malcolm’s Genius IQ saved us. He called his teacher, who agreed to pay the bill for us. So we went home and celebrated with ice cream, thinking we were safe – until Mom and Dad got home. Mom was suspicious of the hat Malcolm was wearing, and discovered the bandage on his head. She then told us that sending me to Military School was the best decision she and Dad ever made. So I’m still stuck here. This place sucks!
 

Alle

New member
Dewey-A.A.

Mom and Dad were visiting Francis this weekend to attend his A.A. sessions. We had no idea he was an alcoholic. He certainly doesn't look like he is. But what would I know, we rarely get to see him these days. Its very possibly some scam on his part to get some money out of our parents. We'll probably find out what he's up to eventually.

For me and my brothers, it was one of those rare weekends that our parents left us to are own devices. Confidently so, since Mom purposefully broke her favourite vase before we got a chance to. So anyway, I was looking around the garage, searching for some hidden fireworks (I live in hope), until I chanced upon Dad's spare car-key, concealed inside an old oil can. I excitably informed Reese and Malcolm of my discovery. Suddenly, they were eagerly talking about what possible mayhem they can wreak with their new-found mobility. I suggested something comparatively harmless, only to get shot down contemptously by these two. They spent nearly two hours trying to figure how to enact some form of mischief or long-standing revenge against people they used to know. Anytime I suggested going to the arcade, they dismissed it. If it wasn't for me, they would still be bored stupid. Well screw that, if they like to with-hold credit and I don't get a say in anything, then they can cope without the key.

When they were about to embark on their joint revenge trips, they asked me where the car-key was. I prompted them once more about giving me a lift to the arcade, only Malcolm arrogantly stated that they couldn't be bothered about that, so I thought what the hell and told them I couldn't remember what I did with it. It slowly dawned on Reese that I was lying, and Malcolm angrily demanded I surrender the key to them. I nonchalantly refused. Reese strode threateningly around the couch to bully the key's whereabouts out of me. I quickly punched him in the balls instead, slowing him down. They managed to catch me, however, before I could escape them, and applied their customary torture methods. It was around the time they were force-feeding me worms and clumps of soil when it finally occured to them that their methods weren't as effective as they used to be.

Then they tried the new and experimental method of pampering me to my every whim. It was awesome. But I knew that their unaccustomed kindness would vanish like mist the second I relinquished the key. So I lied about swallowing it. I had an idea, but I would probably have to suffer for a bit to make it work. My brothers tied me to a chair, put a funnel in my mouth, and poured some mulched up, high fibre cereal down my throat, hoping I would sh*t-out the key for them. They were running out of time for their spree, and were quite desperate. I thought that was so sweet. So then they chivvied me into the bathroom where Malcolm grudgingly kept an eye on me until I voided my bowls. I duly did. I was then shoved out of the bathroom without even given he chance to wipe my ass. While these fools were eagerly sifting through my feces looking for a key that wasn't there, I took the key from its real hiding place (behind the cars left back wheel). I honked the hone a few times to get their attention from inside the house. No doubt they were mad. It was fun. I was fortunate I wasn't pulled over, as the cops don't look kindly on a boy of twelve joy-riding.
Mom and Dad would give me so much sh*t if they found out. I hope they don't read my diary.
 
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Alle

New member
Thank you. I was hoping that I might accurately potray him through the dialogue. Its hard trying to write words that are supposed to sound like they're coming from a twelve year old.
 
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