Sobakawa Cloud Pillow - Dictated by Dr. James "Yodeler" Johnson, PhD Disclaimer: He is not a certified physician. - Typed by Josiah "423" Johnson

As you may have noticed, I hadn't achieved the victory of posting on this scrumtrulescent site yesterday. As you may have guessed, there's a perfectly good reason for it. I was out hunting ninjas while scaling a mountain and defusing three bombs. Yes, I really did that. No, it wasn't hard... for me. So, there will be, to make up, two posts today. As you very well may be confused as to when there should be posts made to this site, I disclose to you that my plan is to post every weekday, with weekends off; weekends being Saturday and Sunday, not Friday. So, to make up for yesterday's excused absence, I shall give you the plot to yesterday's action/adventure. I was sleeping in my bed, as is the norm at 3:00 AM. It was a calm night. I was in my $1,000,000 beach house, where I spend most of my time. That figure, of course, depends on how you look at it. I have lots of sentimental time in that house, although I purchased it with merely $35, and there is absolutely no work done to it. It is without a shadow of a doubt worth, without sentimental value, $12.36. I would say $12.3624895, but the American system of currency does not allow that. The other $999987.64 is purely and accurately sentimental value. If you must get technical, some may not consider it a beach house, either. It is a large box next to a puddle. There is no sand, but there is certainly no lack of gravel, as it is next to a gravel road. As far as I'm concerned, though, it is my $1,000,000 beach house until the puddle dries up. Then it is simply my $1,000,000 house. I'm sure it could fetch double that if purchased by that wasteful dog Barrack Obama. Just putting in my two cents. Or, rather, my $1,000,000. So, there I was, cat napping. Striking me from presumably nowhere was a tightly clenched fist. I woke up, gathered my thoughts, and followed the path of this fist. It led me up a wrist, an arm, over a shoulder, up a neck, and to a face. This was no other face than that which belonged to the man who punched me. He looked to be the sombrero vendor from a spell ago, although his nose was covered in far too much fist for me to immediately recognize this dastardly fiend. Once my arm recoiled, though, pulling away the hand which was in the form of a fist, I cam to the realization of just who this was. He uttered the words, "Get up!" I was not scared one bit. I arose to give him yet another strike to the face, then a kick to the shin, a knee to the gut, and a slap to the face for good measure. He was in complete pain, blanketing his anger entirely. He had obviously escaped the prison which had imprisoned him in prior engagements. I immediately cuffed him. (I always keep handcuffs with me next to my brick. Again, not a kindergartner. Too heavy.) Upon the cuffing of his wrists, I pulled him over my back and sprinted him precisely 27.632 miles to the penitentiary. They were surprised, to say the least, that I thwarted the escape of this man. In light of my actions, they gave me a duty to hunt down and attack 15 Puyuoplian ninjas. (they pay good money to make sure you haven't heard of them, now they're outed.) While I began my trek to a mountain where they were thought to be hiding, I got a call on my phone. Yes, I was mobile, but no, this technically is not a mobile phone. It's amazing what can be done with over 1000 miles of electrical wire. Anyway, I answered my desk phone to gather the information that I was expected to defuse a series of three bombs that were, coincidentally, located in the same mountain. I was up to the task. Once I had reached the mountain, I instantly saw the three bombs I was to defuse. They were all bolted to the sides of the mountain. I quickly got to each one without notice from the ninjas, and retrieved every one. I was scaling the mountain to get to the ninja camp, when they instantly leaped into my presence and began the attack. I began to defuse the bombs and kick ninja butt. Seven ninjas came hurtling towards me in kicking position, yet I flailed my left arm in precise increments of both distance and time, forcing their bodies into rocks, which knocked each one unconscious. Simultaneously, I clipped the correct wires with my right arm to defuse the bombs. I put the bombs away in my pants at that moment, then determined that I had eight ninjas left to defeat. I pinpointed every one's position and initialized the attack. I was a fiery ball of kicking, slapping, punching, and flailing passion. I conservatively moved each body part well over 700 mph. Every ninja was gone. I gathered those laying on the surface of the earth's crust (the ground) and brought them to the prison. I also gave them the bombs. I was paid a breath taking $35 for my efforts. That night, my box became a double wide.