I am not this boy, and for this, I am thankful. This is a story of a boy who is not me. His name is not revealed for privacy reasons, but he is not me. I swear it's not me. Not me.
This boy (please don't mistake him for me) was born to parents who loved him dearly, and nurtured him to genius at an early age. As a very young boy, he showed a capacity to outwit his loving parents. By the age of five, he had developed a keen interest in trickle-down economics and stuffed animals. By six, he was done with stuffed animals. He taught David Abernathy the fundamentals of ball-point pen surgery just a year later, and became the youngest person to land on the moon a year after that. Indeed, Lakeb had it made. In middle school, he had drawn up a theoretically-practical design for a time-machine. As a freshman in high school, he was engaged to Tiger's 4th mistress, but had to settle for number 97 when he found out about her cheating. There were a whole bunch of other crazy things he did in his early life, but I'm too lazy to make them up list them.
Mr. Rhavey turned 15, and instead of searching for universities, he decided to found his own. In order to invite all his friends, he needed a way to reach out to all 50,000 of them. Something like a social networking site. He had in no time accumulated 250,000 friends on Facebook (everyone has more friends on the internet). He grew to know them all as if each was his best friend, until he found a game called Farmville.
Lakeb abandoned all of his fame and fortune (and every bit of his common sense) to play Farmville. He has since dropped out of school, died his hair yellow (the color of hay bales), and joined a cult. He sold the ring he bought for Tiger girl to buy Farmville credits. When he got to a 32 X 32 plot, he could not get up. When he reached 1028 X 1028, he thought about getting out of his chair and pursuing more worthy tasks (you know, like brushing his teeth, or changing his diaper), but upon realizing this weakness, he glued his pants to his chair, and glued himself to his pants, so that he could not possibly leave. This ends the story of Lakeb Rhavey.
UNLESS, you have heard the call, and felt the urge to do something. There is still hope. Or at least hope that there is hope. What can be destroyed by the dastardly evils of the internet can also be revived. All it takes is your consideration, and half a second of your time to join the cause. Do it for Lakeb.