My Big Mouth: 10 Songs I Wrote That Almost Got Me Killed

My Big Mouth: 10 Songs I Wrote That Almost Got Me Killed




A hilarious illustrated novel from the creator of CatDog!
Davis Delaware is not from Delaware. But try telling that to everyone at his new school. When you move in the middle of ninth grade, people are going to think whatever they want about you. If they pay attention at all.
Blending in is fine with Davis. He just wants to doodle in his notebook. Make a few friends. Not rock the boat.
Easier said than done.
Because when he starts a band called The Amazing Dweebs with beautiful Molly and nerdy Edwin, Davis rocks the boat big-time. And all that rocking gets the attention of school bully Gerald ""the Butcher"" Boggs. Now Davis is suddenly king of the school -- and the Butcher's next target.
This can't end well.



Publié par
Date de parution 28 avril 2015
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9780545422871
Licence : Tous droits réservés
Langue English

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Everybody knows why guys start bands: to get girls. But that’s not why I started the Amazing Dweebs. I did it for one girl. I had no clue that girls and bands were such a dangerous combination. I saw Molly coming down the hall that Monday, the very first time I stepped into Woodrow Wilson High. I found out her name almost instantly because people kept saying it:Hi, Molly. Where are you going, Molly? WAIT UP, MOLLY!
I transferred schools in ninth grade late that year. Really late … one month before spring break. Thanks a lot, Pops. He said it would be better to meet some kids to hang out with during the summer than to wait until fall. Yeah, right. We both knew it was just because of
when his new job started. My mom had died the year before, so we were trying to start a whole new life: new house, new school, new town. Except it felt like the same old life. Only worse. We’d moved eighty-seven miles, from one crappy school to another. It was at the very moment I saw Molly that I finally understood what the whole girl thing was about. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have a clue before. There had been lots of clues. But now they all added up to Molly. The way she walked, the way she talked, everything about the way she justwas: reddish hair, not too neat, not too messy; tons of freckles — some people don’t like freckles, but those are people we call tons of stupid; black Converse; and a skirt. Pretty, a little tomboyish, but smiling, laughing, funny, a lot of attitude. What a girl. And get this: She was wearing a Mad Manny the Monkey T-shirt. Mad Manny was the mascot for a chain of stores called Guitar Jungle. They had a series of insane TV commercials that were super-surreal. Each was totally low budget and bizarre in its own way. But they all ended with a guy in a monkey suit swinging in on a vine, playing an electric guitar and howling, “This is Mad Manny the Monkey saying, ‘Swing on down to Guitar Jungle. Our prices will drive you bananas!’” And then he would crash off camera, making a gigantic racket of breaking glass, followed by wild monkey chatter. Mad Manny was mad-angry, mad-crazy, and mad-cool. A so-bad-it’s-good kind of thing. The ads were a litmus test. Most people hated them. If you loved them, you were okay in my book.