Hi everyone my name is Alex, but you can call me Axle. I'm sixteen years old and I live in Illinois. I'm a junior in High School. I really enjoy reading humor writing and I thought I might try a hand at writing it. As I am in the middle of generation-Y, I decided to write about some of my experiences and observations. I hope you get a laugh out of my blog and I hope some of you can see yourself in some of my stories or relate to some of my observations. Here's the story about how i got my nickname:
A couple years ago I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Hawaii one time. Maui, specifically. I had the option to go shopping with my sisters, Mom, and my aunt or golfing with my Dad and Uncle. While I'm sure buying little bottles filled with authentic Hawaiin sand, and $16 authentic Hawaiin seashells would've been just riveting, I decided to go golfing. Now you know my Dad wasn't going to pay for a twelve year old to take on Maui's finest if you've ever seen the aftermath of a youth outing at your local golf course (Little Timmy managed to catch eight frogs while turning the 4th hole into Normandy Beach in Saving Private Ryan. His weapon of choice: the seven-iron). So in an effort to make my trip a little more exciting he let me drive the golf cart. A little way into the round, my father decided that almost flipping the cart twice and running over a "Carts This Way" sign wasn't putting us in enough danger to constitute a driver change, so we finished up the first hole the way we were.
We get around to hole 14 and I am convinced that I am the coolest thing that God graced the earth with. After all, I was driving and the tooth fairy was still coming to my house. We finish up hole 14 and we are headed to hole 15 which happens to be down a particularly steep hill. Pssh, no problem. In complete confidence I go whipping down the hill with no thoughts of braking until the very bottom, right behind the cart of the stranger we were golfing with. Much to my surprise, and apparently his, too, because he was sitting in his cart writing down his score, my cart hurtled into the back of his bringing my cart to a complete stop and moving his several feet forward. Sure enough, it broke my cart's axle. After finishing the golf round (remember golf is more important than whiplash treatment) sitting in a cart between my Father and my Uncle, we made up some story and went home. To my Uncle, Axle Alex was about as clever as they get so the name stuck.