The next chapters of 26 ways to fail.- Jasmine Crespo

I'm not doing NaNoWriMo anymore, so I'm just going to post my story on here until next year because it is too much of a pressure to finish my novel in a month. I'd have to spend 3.2 hours a night until the 30th in order it get it done and that's if I type 15words per minute with no breaks or pauses. Here's some 26 ways to fail.


C is for “Cooking“-
July 7,
Okay, it’s taken me a while to recover, or maybe it’s procrastination. Now I’m going to try my next stunt. (Drum roll please!) Cooking. I’m going to get Mom to help me. I’m going to try to make... What should I make? I’ll start with the basics; yes, that is what I’m going to do! Now I think I’m insane for arguing with myself. On to another subject.
I’m going to try to make an egg. It’s going to be exciting! Here is my pathetic drawing of an egg-(I never said it was in the shell.) à
I’m sure there is no way to mess this up. I mean, a three year old
can cook an egg.
There is a way to mess an egg up, not just in edibility, but
in every way possible. That leads me up to way to fail #3a. Yes,
there are multiple ways to mess cooking up.
Way to fail #3a-
Cooking an egg is easy, right? Unless you’re Sam Bradley, yes. An egg can be a delicious meal, or a possible biological threat. Forget to butter the pan, destroy your mother’s best pan. Also, singe off your evil little sister’s eyebrows. It may have been an accident, but smile anyway.
As indicated above, my evil little sister got a taste of fire. I’m suppressing my laughter now. She’s now surprised at everything. I give up on eggs but not cooking.
The eggs, though easy, burn easily. A biological threat it may be because it created so much smoke in my kitchen, it mutated my neighbors goldfish. They are now also suicidal; I am blamed for that too.
Cooking is an art, says my mother. I could say that also. I wonder if there is a cook my numbers if cooking is like art. Do not say this to my mother; she will most likely make you read the dictionary after analyzing you. Physiatrists, the weirdest mothers.
I would ask my Dad to teach me to cook, but he is too busy. And the only things he makes are covered in ketchup or sugar. This is why he makes meatloaf. I would attempt to try such a task if only it weren’t way to fail # 3b.
Way to fail #3b-
Meatloaf my be even simpler that an egg. Again, if your name happens to be Sam Bradley, you can screw about anything up. Meat when pink is raw, meat when brown is cooked, meat is black when burnt and finally, meat disappears when burnt to ashes.
I tried, I failed. Story of my life. The meatloaf was perfect! My hopes were so high! I spent the majority of my afternoon shaping the raw meat of a deceased cow into a perfect cylindrical shape. I mixed the meat with about every spice I could possibly gather in my kitchen. I next added my dreaded enemy eggs to the mix. This might have contributed to my utter failure. I added some bread crumbs for texture. My mother told me I had to or I’d sleep outside until I was eighteen.
I goofed around with the mix for a brief amount of time. I eventually made a sculpture of my *cough* beloved *cough* sister Shelby. I showed it to her. I even “forgot” to sculpt some eyebrows for her meat head. My mother saw and shot me an evil glance. The evil stare of a mother is more brutal and heart wrenching then any form of torcher in the world. Here is a picture of my masterpiece. à
I must say it has an uncanny likeness. I added color in my spare time with M&M’s ®. Also, a raisin is her mouth. I might just create my own line of annoying people out of hamburger.
After making fun of my sister, I shaped it into a perfect log. I dumped my hearts content of ketchup and two kinds of sugar on it. I used the brown kind and the white kind. I pre-heated the oven just like my mother told me to. I waited a half hour just for it to heat up! I carefully placed the food in the oven. I think it went smoothly until I entered in the time for the timer wrong. I put in one minute instead of one hour. The timer sounded quickly, but I didn’t notice because I went outside. I have the one task in my house that I could I could possibly do, feed my beagle Biscuit.
Biscuit is the only one in my house that understands me. His big puppy-dog eyes warm the hearts of any angry mob that seems to be chasing me. I was going to feed him and I started playing fetch with him, one thing led to another and I was out there for two hours.
Meat is pink when raw, that I know for sure. Brown is what I was aiming for. I got the black and hour through the process. My end result of dinner was ashes. Cooking with heat may not be the best idea. I’ll just call it quits. Even though there was this recipe for zabaglione-Italian dessert: a dessert made of egg yolks, sugar, and Marsala wine beaten over hot water until pale and foamy. It is served hot with sponge finger biscuits. It seems too complicated for me. I have set fire to the curtains hanging in the window. This is typical so I’m not going any further with this statement.
I would draw my disastrous result but all you would see was dust. NOTE: NEVER sample disastrous results. I tasted the meatloaf ashes; it was so disgusting that I puked right on the spot. Very interesting I hope. I now officially give up on cooking. No matter where or when, the most I can cook is nothing. I actually burnt water! I just though that was a figure of speech! I, Sam Bradley, burn water!
The impossible is inevitable- three down, twenty three to go.

Talent Date Success Failure
A- Archery June 5 N/A x
B- Bowling June 17 N/A x
C- Cooking July 7 N/A x
D is for “Diving“-
July 10,
Okay, this could have been avoided but I was too lazy to think of anything else. Besides, it’s a hot 100 degree weather, perfect for the pool. I have learned that none of my friends already listed have any diving experience. I don’t want to take a class so I made a new friend! The only other girl that could speak to me besides Lilly is Michelle Russo. Yes, I made friends with my mom, friend’s daughter. It was a pathetic attempt, but Michelle was made to help me. That is one reason why we both hate having physiologists for mothers. So here is Michelle’s information. She told me this all on the way to the pool
Michelle Russo-
Michelle is my newest friend that is sporty. She has a mother that is friends with mine so that is how we met. We are both analyzed by our mothers and forced to try new stuff. This is the main thing we have in common. She is sporty and is on a swim team. Michelle is two years older than I am. Her description would be her long black hair and the sharp chin she has.
That is basically Michelle.
I’m changing into my swimsuit right now, it’s way too short, but it was the only one my size. It is five inches up my thigh. This is going to be more embarrassing than I thought.
I waddled out of the locker room to meet Michelle, her mother reserved the pool for us because she new my bad history with evacuations. I think I’m the only person on the Earth to set fire to a pool, while standing IN the water.
Michelle tried teaching me. Remember how there are no bad students, just bad teachers? Well, even if an Olympic diver had taught me how to dive, I still would have failed. This leads me to Way to Fail #4
Way to Fail #4-
I am not a fish. Fish are friends not food. These have nothing to do on how to fail. Practically drown in three feet deep water. Attempt a cannon ball . Make a minor splash, drown again. Try to dive and belly-flop. Lose dignity and look like a red version of yourself. A sunburned Sam.
“Sam, my mother is making me teach you so no special treatment.” said Michelle. “ Now the first thing you do is make yourself as smooth as possible on your entry into the water. Other-wise, you’ll be in for a lot of pain. Keep your arms above your head. Do you think you can do that?”
“Can I do a cannonball instead?” I asked.
“Sure, no way can you mess that up.” said Michelle.
I climbed up the ladder to the platform. I walked cautiously up the board. I jumped once, twice, three times before falling off. I attempted to roll up in a ball for entry. I tucked my long legs into my torso, awaiting the cold splash of the pool water. I felt away from my body for a brief second, then I awoke to the icy chill, I then realized I was well under twelve feet of water. I attempted to swim back up, but my body wouldn’t let me. I was cramping up. The water around me started getting darker and colder as I was running out of breath. I saw Michelle jump into the water with fish-like grace. Then it became black.
I awoke to Michelle slapping me. How she carried me up, I’ll never know. I attempted one more time, this time I was actually going to dive. I assumed the position and jumped in head first. I almost made it. I belly flopped. I can still feel the burns. Down I went like a pancake. My whole entire front side red like a strawberry. I’m grateful though that my shorts did not come off in the process. I would never in a million years live that down.
I keep telling Michelle thank you for saving my life but she keeps calling me an idiot. There are way more than twenty six ways to fail, but I’m finding out that most are similar.
Here’s the updated chart.
Talent Date Success Failure
A- Archery June 5 N/A x
B- Bowling June 17 N/A x
C- Cooking July 7 N/A x
D- Diving July 10 N/A x
E is for “Exploring“-
July 15,
My near death experience didn’t teach me a lesson. If it did, I wouldn’t be writing this. My talent might be exploring so I’m going to give it a try. I’m still coughing up water, it’s disturbing. My family is finally letting me go camping with Jesse’s. Their reason was because it was good for me or I had just destroyed most of the house already and they needed to repair.
Exploring. Not exactly, what I would call exciting. Not that I’ve ever been camping before. I haven’t even slept in a tent. Whatever, we get to go in a Hummer though, it’s going to be awesome! Just Jesse, his two younger brothers, and me are going, well, and Jesse’s dad too. Jesse’s younger brothers are Simon and Michael. They are eleven year old twins. They have something in common with me, they screw things up too. This is why they are possibly the only eleven year olds on earth with kiddies’ leashes on their backs. It’s hilarious to tie one to a post when they aren’t looking and make them run. It’s cruel, I know, but oh so entertaining.
We are going to basically the middle of nowhere to camp. We were originally going to bring Kevin along, before he strapped himself underneath the car in order to get a “thrill”. Honestly, I have no idea what goes through his head.
We have arrived at the forest. It has a weird smell to it, well I think it’s the forest. I’m a city kid, so I’m going to have a hard time. Jesse was practically born in the out doors so he gets to teach me.

I'll post more later-JJ