I bet yo' dawgs be thinkin' what 'INSERTGENDERHERE' be doin' an author note for?

Yeah, well, I be recently thinkin' of rewriting this story, bra, and it may happen since I've started the first chapter already. It's still in progress.

I'm going to stop talking like a gangster now because I just can't be bothered. And plus, those red lines are irritating me.

Don't get sad or anything, it's a good thing, since I can fix the mistakes with the story plot |D
I dunno. (Dunno is a word? Holy Lord, did I make it one? *insertdramatictearshere*) I need you guys to review and tell me what you think.

ANDANDAND… I'm not going to just post an author note asking this and that and expecting you guys to mind read, etc. I'm going to post a little bit of the chapter. IN HERE.

BUT FIRST. I do ask for a favour. You see, I posted a new fanfic up recently (which is RinxLen again, don't be surprised, guys. I warned you on my profile) and it has got no reviews /slapped/ Shame, yes, I am promoting my own works here, but seriously? It has been viewed apparently 120+ times and NO ONE HAS REVIEWED. Maybe it's my fault for not saying, 'REVIEW PLS CHILDREN.' But they should know that most authors like reviews and such. I need your opinions. orz.

It's called 'So, I Heard You Like Your Step-Brother' and it's non-incest 'CAUSE THEY'RE NOT RELATED. DUR. It's a bit… crude; crude humour for Rin, yes, and I will have to warn you. But still read it, no?

Anyway, onto the point:

LEN'S POV (as usual). First chapter preview. It's in beta-stage, or whatever. I haven't re-checked the grammar LIKE I'M SUPPOSED TO HURDUR.

I wake up rather suddenly to the sun shining in my face, illuminating my malodorous room and the horrendous sound of my alarm clock attempting to drive me insane. And at this point, it was winning.
I roll over with my eyes closed, groaning in irritation, before lashing my arm out in frustration at the bedside table because I just want to kill that damn clock. Instead, I end up killing the other random crap that cluttered my bedside table. Something makes a slosh, followed then after by a bump, and I did charades with myself to guess it was the month-old glass of water which I really need to change (if not, I might as well just be giving myself a death sentence). I opened my right eye and checked. I stand corrected. Now I won't have to worry much about changing it because I keep forgetting to, because I will have to change it anyway, unless I want to wake up in the middle of the night choking to death because I have no glass of water to aid my throat's needs.
By now, the alarm clock was giving me a mild migraine. I grit my teeth and pushed my still-in-sleep-mode body up onto my elbows and scanning the bedside table. Oh, funny-ha, it wasn't there.
I give up. Alarm clock, you won again, but you will not survive my wrath which will be awaiting you for tomorrow. I shall destroy you… with my Mickey-mouse torch – after I find you.
I leant over the edge of my bed and scanned the visible floor and around the bedside table. Nope, not there either. On a brighter note, I could hear the ear-bursting scrape of its whiny little beep much louder now. I chewed my bottom lip in obstruction and narrowed my eyes, before bending over the edge and leaning far enough so that I can see the forbidden underneath of my bed.
Bingo. I found you, little piece of crap. And I have no epic idea how you got so far under there.
Suddenly, my excitement of finding the horrid thing leaves me no choice but to face-plant the carpet in a very much less gentlemanly order. I think I dislocated something. Anyhow, after recovering from the very much exhilarating fall so early in the morning, I grab the alarm clock and kill the 'alarm-off' button like I was disarming a bomb. Well, I very much was disarming a bomb, a bomb that would make my head explode from the insanely annoying noise it was attempting to make.
I check the time on it and it tells me it is 7:59AM. I knew this clock was dodgy. Rubbing my face and nose with my palm, I sit up and sigh. It had to be at least 6:30AM. I'm about to die from tiredness. And no, I didn't stay up until three in the morning playing Super Monkey Ball on my DS… or listening to my iPod, for that matter.
My bedroom door swings open and Mum stalks in with a constipated-angry-kind-of-look on her face. She looks at me with a not-very-impressed look on her face and folds her arms over her chest while leaning on her right leg. She was still in her pyjamas, she was very much less the morning person I was, for a matter of fact. She had 'tired' written all over her.
"Len, what are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting ready for school? You're going to be late, you know." She complains, as usual – all mums seem to complain constantly. What do they want us teenagers to do; grow some butt-wings and prance around serving at their side so they could sit around on their heads all day? Man, I can imagine my Mum wanting that.
"No I'm not." I argue bluntly, still sitting on the floor.
"Yes, you are." She retorts back.
"No, I'm not. It can't possibly be that late. I just woke up about 5 minutes ago." I continue to argue, being the stubborn person I am. Mum just sighs in defeat and turns to walk out, but pauses and looks at me, opening her mouth to say something else.
"Well," she says, pressing her lips together in her I'm-still-not-impressed way, "don't blame me when you are late to school and get another detention. Len, you need to be more organised." And she walks out. Just like that.

What do you think? Tell me in reviews…