Option 1)
Make sure your Mom is home.
Go down to the basement.
Pop in your favorite skin flik and turn up the volume so that it is just barely audible upstairs.
Activate your HRM and begin training (by training I mean sit on the couch and see how long you can wait before freaking out and turning it off...sick fuggers).
Option 2)
Activate your HRM and drive through the deep south with Mass plates on your car and marijoony aperati in the glove box.
Sorry I couldn't be more helpful.
You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff.
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