Dear Diary, I drew that "S" thing on Josh's

Dear Diary, I drew that "S" thing on Josh's hand today, but before 7th period, he'd washed it off. Hygiene is totes adorbs! I washed my Josh altar to honor his hygienic ways.

I then bronzed Josh's lock of hair. Oh, diary, I look forward to sleeping in my "blind" right outside Josh's window so I can be near him. I did 10 Josh push-ups and licked the wrap

ping paper which tasted strangely like bubble gum. When I was finished with my Josh push-ups, I got on my Josh computer and did some Josh web surfing, looking for Josh. I found tha

t I had Josh OCD when I happened upon the Josh DSM-V. Reviewing this online Josh manual, I began believing I also had Josh schizotypal disorder, Josh trichotillomania, and Josh

Plastophobia. Plastophobia was a new listing, in an era when fear of plastic and its chemical poisons was endemic. Everyday, someone had a seizure from toxic plastic added to their

travel water bottles, their childrens' toys, their cheap pens and party favors. The 911 calls had blindsided health officials; over the course of a single week,

plastic related deaths increased by 5,639%. It wasn't locally either. Reports came in from all across the world that something was going on that was causing plastic to kill people.

Exhaustive investigations were conducted for no less than ten years without any leads into the murders. Then, one misty day in April of 1967, Ben Braddock learned about Plastics.

He rushed off to tell the police what he learned. Unfortunately, a little over halfway to the station, the plastics caught up with him. And poor Braddock was never seen again.