Sonny Moore: No one will read this

Its summer in san francisco. Completely unpredictable hot today, cold tommorow possibly a killer earthquake next week. My band Lavender Children is going on tour this summer, warped tour with 1988234254 other bands. Saying im nervous is an understatment. I'm 14 almost 15 and im the singer...the one most exposed during the show. Its going to be great though i can feel it an experience of a lifetime.
Im currently surrounded by books im thinking maybe twice my weight in books and a small pile of clothes. My brother Milo walks in " Areyou going to summer school or on warped" he's scanning the piles of books on the floor. " what too much?" he raises an eyebrow at me, the most common thing he does when he thinks im being luney "not too much... i mean if your planning on having clean clothes for like a week and wearing books for the rest of tour". I stare at him with my black eyes, my most intimidating feature if i do say so myself "your sarcasm solves nothing hoe biscuit". "Wise words coming from the mouth of the queen of sarcasm", he dashes at of my room just in time to avoid a rather heavy hard covered book. "okay maybe i should cut it down to 3 bags of books 2 bags of clothes, yea that'll learn 'em", i say to myself well aware of the grammatical errors. When i talk to myself i like to invision myself as a cowboy... im smart enough to keep that little fact to myself.
I see Milo and the rest of the band packing up the bus almost ready to leave. Pogo, the porker of the band has less luggage more safeway bags. My mouth starts to water as i invision all the goodies he has in there, but then my neck starts to hurt when i imagine the battle thats going to have to be won if i want any food of pogo the porker. Having to see a chiropractor for the rest of my life is totally worth some cocoa pebbles at midnight. I skip/drag my way over to thebus, iattempt to throw one of my book bags atGeorge but i can barely lift the bag 3 inches of the floor. After watching my sorry attempt at violence he gives me that same cocked eye brow look as my brother, jerks. I manage to drag myself up the 3 stairs into the bus, it feels more like 20000 actually. I drop my what feels like cement filled bags on the floor with a loud boom and drop myself on the floor. "a little over dramatic there Indigo" i hear someone mumble, an angel maybe its quite possible i died of exhaustion on the journey up the stairs, all three of them yes. " yea well your a grandma lover...whoever you are". "my grandmas dead and im not exactly a necrophiliac" ah it wasmilo, if he wonders who i got my sarcasm from heneednot look any further than a mirror. Now the reason that a speak like im in a cheap shakespeare play is another matter entirely and by far a better question because im not even sure. After about .5 seconds i pop up "SHE LIVES" screams george, "boooo" says pogo while throwing popcorn at me, hes such a nice fellow. After picking the popcorn off the dirty looking floor and eating it i decide to look around the bus, apparently were already on ourway to the first venue...maybe i wasnt on the floor for .5 seconds.