Okay, so here I was one day blabbering away to Caitlin and Coleman on the way to fourth period about one of my newest theories on life. We finally work our way out of the crowded hallways, my attention now turning to the concept of using both doors instead of trying to cram twenty people into the building while they are all going opposite directions, a concept which I might add seems to have left the mind of half the student body. Now, here is where it gets good.

The genius who built our school only built awnings from the building we had just existed to its neighbor, which really helped us out. We looked out, me still babbling, to see it pouring down in sheets. The courtyard (no awning) had never looked so far away.

So, with Caitlin and me getting ready for the sprint, Coleman pipes in, "Ya know, I really hate water, especially wet water," as if it was the most sane thing to say in the world.

With the background behind my theory now stated I would like to share it.

There is a subspecies of water-like creatures that are not wet. Coleman has encountered them, and now he has a vision that all water falling from the sky in an event we sane people like to call rain should not be wet.

Therefore, do not encounter this species if you would like to stay sane… or you could go be like Coleman. Thinks about him for a second. But I wouldn't recommend it.