This morning for the first time in about 16 years, I awoke to something new and loud. Could maybe the Germans be air-raiding Brooklyn? Was there a fire in my building? Could Supreme High Master Voknort answer my prayers and robot aliens finally be abducting me?
Nope.
The alarm clock my Grandma Dorothy gave my brother (and I stole) went poopoo this month. I finally spent $12 to buy a brand new one. It's loud.
Sorry, this isn't chapter 35 of Nathan DeGraaf's "No Recess."
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