To Greg Heffley, middle college will be the dumbest notion actually invented. It is a location rigged with numerous social landmines, not the least of that are morons, wedgies, swirlies, bullies, lunchtime banishment to the cafeteria floor - plus a festering piece of cheese with nuclear cooties. To survive the never-ending ordeal and attain the recognition and status he feels he so richly deserves, Greg devises an endless series of can't-miss schemes, all of which, naturally, go awry. And he's receiving it all down on paper, via a diary - "it's Not really a diary, it's a journal!" Greg insists, preferring the less-sissyfied designation - filled with his opinions, thoughts, tales of family trials and tribulations, and (would-be) schoolyard triumphs. "One day time when I'm popular," writes Greg, "I'll have much better things to accomplish than response peoples' stupid queries all day time." So was born the Wimpy Kid's diary.
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