The most common one being, "Are you on drugs?"
So I've decided to write a journal about it because I feel like sharing the story behind the insanity. Mostly because I feel like getting a little nostalgic right not.
Cue Nickelback song.
The cicadas were chirping violently nearby in the heat of a new summer. School was out and I was spending some quality time with my good pal Anna. I had already created some fanfics with my long-distance friend Morgan and I was suggesting to Anna that we make an All Time Low one together. Her input was, "We should make it totally different than everything else. Like, not serious at all." So we got to talking and we agreed that we would make a fanfic that was completely and utterly uncalled for and stupid.
Anna started writing in her binder of blank pages supplied by her mom that she didn't use. This binder, my friends, was my entire summer between 8th grade and freshman year.
Do you know that one summer that you will never, ever forget because it was so amazing? I don't remember shit from last summer. Not a thing. Except for the fact that 99% of it was spent in Anna's basement at 3 in the morning on the right side of her horrible deathtrap of a pull-out couch laughing and writing this story.
In the early stages, we were pretty sure we were going to hell for the horrible things we were writing. And we are still convinced today. We referred to her binder as "The Story" and nothing else, for no other title could describe it. After each little episode of the adventures of All Time Low, we would swear to ourselves that this atrocity would not reach public eyes, that we would burn it before anyone else got a chance to read it.
...Well that plan went to shit.
In reality, Jizz In My Pants is a coauthor story. This is the creative process in which it is written:
Anna and I talk on the phone for hours LMFAOing at random shit in our lives and funny things we say. Then, all we have to say is "THE STORY" and the event is automatically put in. Next, we have a sleepover so I can catch up on the parts she has written since our last gathering. We spend a good hour of time reading aloud and pissing ourselves from the random stuff she has written. Anna usually writes an average of about 15 pages between sleepovers if not more, so we're well entertained. Then we spend the next chunk of time bouncing off ideas and writing even more of the story. I go home and write down, in more detail and finesse, the events in "The Story." The cycle is continuous and hasn't stopped for over half a year.
Note: about half of the ideas we discuss are actually put in "The Story." So there are about a million other things we've talked about that aren't even written.
Also note: The things I have shared with you so far in the 33 chapters of Jizz In My Pants make up about 1/8th of the events of the story. The reason I omit so much is because I either forget, or the episode is so vile and so utterly politically incorrect, inhumane, whatever, that we fear for our lives should it be leaked.
To give you an idea on how much of our lives are dedicated to this clusterfuck, here's some numbers:
146 pages in the original binder.
200 pages in the new binder.
In total, thats 346 pages. Each one written on front and back.
So that's, what, 692 one-sided pages in all?
...And "The Story" is still going strong. Anna just gave me the finished second binder and has moved on to another 200 page notebook that will more than likely be filled by this summer. I'm not even kidding. We have no lives.
You may be asking yourself why I have written this entry. Because in all honesty, Jizz In My Pants isn't the most beautifully written nor is radiating with writing prowess. But the story behind "The Story" and inevitably Jizz In My Pants is probably one of the best memories I have to date. And each time I read something new Anna has written, the memory grows. Looking back on my life when I'm old, this is the thing I'm going to remember: the dumbass story I wrote with a friend that was a thousand pages long and wasted a good year of our lives. This journal was more for Anna and myself just to record the laughs and make it official.
Cheers to having no lives, never taking yourself seriously, and having as much fun as you can before going to hell. May your life be far more exciting and prosperous than ours. *clinks glass*
End Nickelback song.
The original binders:
