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Weird Like Me

I’ve always been a weirdo. That baby people couldn’t say anything nice about? Me. The kid who spooked little girls and freaked out little boys? Me again. The teenager teachers and security guards would keep their eye on? You got it. Me. I’ve been called a serial killer, a child molester and much worse. None of it true, but there’s not much I can do about it. Some women drip sexuality, some men exude confidence; I just reek of creepy creepiness. And I’m getting a bit tired of it.

So here’s my plan: I need to get a lot of money, then change every single part of my life. Get a classy new house, laser eye surgery, a personal trainer, hair plugs, bad breath surgery, life coach, high school diploma, cooking lessons, public speaking courses… the works. A complete overhaul. And what’s the best way to get a lot of money? Win it, obviously.

Contest after contest, entry form after entry form, raffle after raffle, I do ’em all. I just need one jackpot, and my days of sketchiness are over. Soon, I will be very normal.

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