by Jim Benton
APPLE
From New York Times best selling author Jim Benton
De
a
r Dum
b
Diary,
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE
YOUR DUMBNESS
Think you can handle
Jamie Kelly’s FIrst year of diaries?
#1 Let’s pretend this never happened
#2 My pants are haunted!
#3 Am I the Princess or the Frog?
#4 never do anything, ever
#5 can adults become human?
#6 the problem with here is that it's where i'm from
#7 Never Underestimate your dumbness
#8 It’s Not My Fault I Know Everything
#9 That’s What Friends Aren't For
#10 The worst things in life are also free
#11 Okay, So Maybe I Do Have Superpowers
#12 Me! (Just Like You, Only Better)
And don’t miss year two!
Year Two #1: School. Hasn’t This Gone On Long Enough?
Year Two #2: The Super-nice Are Super-annoying
Year Two #3: Nobody's Perfect. I'm as Close As It Gets.
Year Two #4: What I Don’t Know Might Hurt Me
De
a
r Dum
b
Diary,
Never Underestimate
Your Dumbness
SCHOLASTIC INC.
Jim Benton’s Tales from Mackerel Middle School
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e-ISBN 13 978-0-545-29558-1
Copyright © 2008 by Jim Benton
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.
SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks
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DEAR DUMB DIARY is a registered trademark of Jim Benton.
First printing, March 2008
Dear Whoever Is Reading My Dumb Diary,
Are you sure you’re supposed to be
reading somebody else’s diary? I mean, how
dumb can you get? You should know that’s
not okay with me.
If you are my parents, then YES, I know
that I am not allowed to call people dumb
and dummy-heads and dumb-face and
dumbwad, and all that. But this is a diary,
and I didn’t actually “call” them any-
thing. I wrote it. And, if you punish me for
it, then I will know that you read my diary,
which I am not giving you permission to
dumbly do.
Now, by the power vested in me, I do
promise that everything in this diary is true,
or, at least, as true as I think it needs to be.
Signed,
PS: Just in case you’re wondering how dumb you
are, you can find out for yourself on this handy,
highly- accurate, Dumbness IQ Scale:
1
Sunday 01
Dear Dumb Diary,
How would you feel if your uncle ate your
sock and pooped on your lawn?
a) I’d feel grossed out.
b) I’d feel so grossed out, I could never be
grossed in again.
c) I’d feel like staying on the porch.
2
I would choose all three. My uncle didn’t do
it, but my dog has, and for some reason, we just
go out there and clean it up without calling the
police — which we will do if an uncle ever does it.
(Hey, uncles ! I’m not kidding. Take the hint if you’re
reading this.)
3
Will I ever understand why we put up with a dog
whose main purpose in life is to perform odors and
get tripped over? How dumb are we?
4
Monday 02
Dear Dumb Diary,
You might remember, Dumb Diary, that my
Aunt Carol is getting married to Assistant Principal
Devon this month. He’s Angeline’s uncle, so that
means Angeline and I will be related. I think most
people would agree with me when I say EW. (I’m
not ewing him, I’m ewing Angeline, who, though
popular, is plenty ewy in my book.)
5
Since he is my assistant principal, and not
a person, it’s difficult to think of him as my Uncle
Dan. I’m thinking of calling him something like
“Uncle Assistant Principal Devon.”
He used to be really nice, but he seems
frowny nowadays and kind of moody.
Isabella says it’s because he’s getting
married and that people sometimes get a little
moody as the Big Day approaches because they’re
practicing for married life. My mom and dad are
pretty good proof that she’s right. Some days
they have so many mood swings, we could put in a
playground.
6
Friday, we’re doing something for Aunt Carol’s
wedding at my house. The main reason is to torture
me with the gruesome poofy brown bridesmaids’
dresses and wooden clogs that we are being forced
to wear as bridesmaids. Thanks for that, Isabella.
By the way, do you know how bridesmaids got
the name BRIDESMAIDS ? It was like this:
7
It’s hard not to blame Angeline for all of this,
since she IS somebody other than myself. But it’s
really kind of Isabella’s doing, since she tricked
Aunt Carol into thinking brown poofy dresses
and CLOGS were the coolest things you could
accessorize your wedding with.
But it’s very hard for me to blame Isabella
for anything, even when somebody shows me
photographic evidence.
And besides, Angeline is much prettier and
therefore more blamelicious.
8
Tuesday 03
Dear Dumb Diary,
Margaret is on the dance committee, which is
weird because she is one of those oafish people that
you just naturally assume dances like somebody
slipped a ferret down her pants. She’s not totally a
girl, not totally an ape. She’s what you might call a
girlilla.
The dance is at the end of the month, but it
takes weeks to magically transform our gym into
a magnificent fairy- tale ballroom that looks just
like a gym with some balloons in it.
9
Margaret asked me to help with the posters
(my glitter skills are legendary) and I agreed to
make one.
She wanted, like, a JILLION different
posters, but glitterizing takes a
long time, and
I’m not going to ruin my reputation with a bunch
of posters that start developing glitter bald-spots
because I rushed it. (The first rule of the
road is that beautiful things take time,
and you can’t rush glue.)
10
I was going to suggest that she do a few
herself, but because Margaret is a pencil chewer,
making posters is probably impossible for her. When
she sees all those delicious writing implements
spread out in front of her, she’ll feel like she’s at a
buffet.
So somebody else HAS to make posters.
Posters are a critical part of the event because they
help the boys start planning weeks in advance who
they will want to ask to dance but won’t.
They also help the girls plan who they will want
to ask them to dance but will say no to if they do.
11
Although I’m a legend at this glitterfication,
I have to give Miss Anderson some credit for how
awesome my glitter abilities are.
Miss Anderson is my art teacher, and BTF,
which is like a BFF except that the object is a
teacher. But even though she is merely a teacher,
she rarely wears teacher clothes and is beautiful
enough to be a waitress, or maybe even a weather
lady. She tried to steal Uncle Assistant Principal
Devon away from my Aunt Carol when they first
started dating, so Aunt Carol probably hates her at
least forever and maybe longer.
Everybody knows that Miss Anderson is a
Total Master of All Things Sparkly and
taught me some of her amazing twinklization
techniques, which are so excellent they can only
be called Glitter-Fu.
12
Since Aunt Carol hates Miss Anderson, I
never say anything nice about her in Aunt Carol’s
presence, which is The Rule you’re supposed to
observe when dealing with people who have intense
feelings about things.
Like, you would never go on and on to a
mouse about how wonderful cats are, or tell your
friend, Mr. Snowman, about how much you’re
looking forward to summer, or tell Miss Bruntford
(the cafeteria lady) how sensible it is to not eat
nine or ten pies a day.
I think Aunt Carol is over it all now, anyway,
because I heard her say they were inviting all of
the teachers to the wedding, even “Miss Arty-
Farty,” which I’m almost certain is Aunt Carol’s
code name for Miss Anderson — and is better than
the other one she had for her, which was just a long
string of screamy swear words.
13
Wednesday 04
Dear Dumb Diary,
Stinker ate a jar of my glitter.
Right after school I started on my poster. I
use shaker tops on my glitter jars. When Stinker saw
me shaking one, he must have thought it was some
sort of delicious seasoning, because when I turned
my back for just a second, he managed to gnaw the
top off my sparkling gold and ate the entire jarful.
14
I think the glitter made him feel a little dizzy
because he was walking all wobbly and bumped
into the wall. Although it could have been partially
caused by me trying to shake the glitter directly out
of his face and onto my poster.
Now my arms hurt because Stinker would be
considered fat even if he had been born as three
dogs. But it gave me a great idea for a health
club where you build up your muscles by hoisting
chubbier and chubbier dogs.
15
Thursday 05
Dear Dumb Diary,
Mom said Stinker was acting all weird so we
had to take him to the veterinarian after school to
make sure he doesn’t have Twinkle Poisoning
or Sparklititis or whatever eating a jar of glitter
would do to you.
Isabella came with us because she really
wants a puppy and her mom won’t let her have
one because Isabella has had some really bad luck
with pets.
16
Isabella was hoping that if the vet was
handing out free samples in the form of puppies
and she just showed up at home with one, her mom
wouldn’t be able to say no. Since looking directly
into a puppy’s eyes and telling it that you don’t love
it is a scientific impossibility.
Unfortunately, there was no puppy giveaway,
and even more unfortunately, guess who we ran
into? Angeline and her mom.
And guess who had to totally copy me
and get a dog? That’s right: Angeline. And as if
copying me wasn’t bad enough, she’s also copying
about 50 million other dog owners in America,
which has to make this one of the worst cases of
copying ever documented.
17
Just to show off, Angeline couldn’t get a
regular dog, she had to go and get a RESCUE DOG.
A rescue dog is one of those dogs at the
pound that nobody wants. They’re usually not
puppies, but they are cute, smart dogs that need a
home. (Although if I was a dog and had to choose
between the pound and Angeline, I would choose
the pound, unless the third choice was to pound
Angeline.)
Even though Angeline’s rescue dog came with
an adorable name (her name is Stickybuns), she
is fortunately unlike most rescue dogs in that
she is powerfully ugly and has some brain damage. I
diagnosed it when she wasn’t sickened after Stinker
licked her face, which, put in people terms, would
be like if . . . well, it would be like if Stinker licked
your people face.
18
Even though Stickybuns is gross and dumb,
Isabella was super jealous of Angeline’s dog.
You could tell because she was looking not at all
jealous, which is an even jealouser way to look than
plain old jealous. Isabella is a master of cover-ups.
And when I said maybe her mom would let her get
a rescue dog, she said that she wants a puppy. And
then she spelled puppy for me a couple times, which
is how I know she was upset because that’s the only
time people spell words at you.
19
The vet checked Stinker over and said that he
looked fine, which I think means he looks fine for a
dog- shaped balloon full of glitter and foulness.
But honestly, I wasn’t really listening. The
hideousness of Angeline’s dog had put me in a
really good mood and I just wanted to get back to
my poster and leave Angeline and her Stickybuns
behind.
20
Friday 06
Dear Dumb Diary,
Aunt Carol, Uncle Dan, Isabella, and Angeline
came over tonight, just as had been earlier
threatened.
Isabella and I have been trying to wear these
dumb clogs that Aunt Carol gave us. Her advice
was to wear them a little bit every day because
that way we’d get
used to them. Evidently, crying
bridesmaids with bleeding feet are one of the main
symptoms of a wedding that isn’t going well.
21
Other symptoms include:
1. After bride says “I do,” she follows it
up with “Yeah, right.”
2. Groom bites head off bride cake-
topper.
3. Bride’s eleven ex-husbands show up for
ceremony.
4. Wedding rings. Onion rings. What’s
the diff?
5. When groom is told he may kiss the
bride, he says “I’ll pass.”
22
Angeline brought Stickybuns over to my house
for this Bridesmaid Fashion Show. She SAID it was
because the dog is still a little nervous and doesn’t
like to be left alone, but I’m sure it was really to
show off that she has used her horrible beauty-
voodoo to transform Stickybuns into what might
be the Cutest Dog in the State.
Pretty girls can really do this. Isabella says
it’s an evil Black Magic that’s called Pink Magic.
23
Isabella suggested that we put Stickybuns
in the backyard with Stinker, which I thought was a
great idea because associating with Stinker could
only ugly her up. Ugly dogs really can do this and I
think it should be called Brown Magic.
24
Isabella and I went up to my room to change,
and I started complaining about the clogs and how
we should just refuse to wear them. But she very
calmly said, “Don’t even bother putting
them on,” and walked out of my room.
25
The next thing I heard was a terrible scream
and a crash and then Isabella crying and wailing
like somebody was slowly cutting her in half with
those kindergarten scissors that can hardly even
cut paper in half, much less an Isabella. When I