Here is a story that you don’t want to read in front of your college creative writing class, it seems none of these fucking swamp donkey’s that you sat next to……. have any god damn sense of humor at all…..they just sit there and make faces like a constipated ape….fuck them!!!

Having childhood memories is a great thing to have, but when it’s a fucking horrific event you just want to curl up in an assball and cry like a fucking 3 year old

Like any normal morning for me before the bus came for school… I figured I would steal some quarters from my sister as long as I could sift through the plague infested dump she called a purse, after hours of vomiting like a caveman meeting rosie O’donnell for the first time…

I left early so I could go up to 7 Eleven to play a some arcades, and to hassle Hashish sitting behind the counter while he’s arguing to a redneck about cleaning up the fucking slushie his buddy  Joe Dirt  just threw at his neck. I joined in and took Mohammed’s tip jar and smashed it on his turban. somehow we got into a wrestling match and he eventually banned me from ever coming in his store again. His fucking translator’s head was stuffed through the hot dog turner…so it was hard to understand any fucking bullshit these pricks were saying.

Of course I missed the bus, I had to go home and change my blood stained shirt and pour a bottle of peroxide on my penis that got snapped off in the U.F.C fight with Abraham, and on top of that I had to knock down my sister’s door with a sledge hammer just to get her to wake the fuck up to take me to school…because pouring candlewax on her cheek didn’t do the trick

It was great though, when she made an ass out of herself just like Richard Simmons on the Tonight Show after he showed his kitten balls to the nation because his god damn shorts are tighter than Bobby Brown’s choke hold on Whitney…she  had to write her name and address on a piece of paper at the toll booth, because she didn’t have any money to pay the toll…. so they had to send her the bill for $.75 cents…I had to laugh into my jacket because her face was redder than Santa Clause’s fat red ass

Of course my laughing backfired…being that she was so pissed off, I had to shoulder roll out of the passenger side car door, as she squeeled around the parking lot like a pig getting slaughtered with a butter knife

After I flipped her off while I was on the ground, she backed up toward me like a diabolical being with her eyes fixated on running over my fucking bird chest…. which made me run into the school like a fucking child. When school was over I had to stop by the pawn shop and buy a silver bullet to put this bitch in the grave, before she attacked me while I was walking through the forest or some shit…..

I hated school with a passion. You sit through each class, listening to Ben Stein talk about his monotone voice and how fucking annoying it is, and how it got him kicked out of the actor’s studio. Then he asks fucked up questions like if x-y+h=zb…..what does the speed of a gazelle reach when catching a jack rabbit in the back woods of kentucky??

I look around and everyone in the class is more passed out then William Hung after he got his ass kicked for opening up for Journey, I’m the only bastard still awake because I’m still traumatized by the fucking joy ride I had with my hallucinogenic sister. Ben Stein needs an answer so he eyes me down like Charles Manson ready to slice and dice his next victim.

I mumble a bunch of bullshit, hoping the bell rings to end this fucking nightmare…when it does everyone stands up and sprints out the door like a running back on steroids, I pack up my shit faster than Clay Aiken getting kicked out of Hollywood… as I’m leaving I throw a 90 mile hour fast ball with an apple right at Ben’s forehead shattering his glasses, I walk out the door flipping him off ,while he’s on the ground crying like a toddler, I kick him in the neck causing him to die on the scene.

I walk into the hallway, which is cluttered with a pack of chimps like it’s 5 o’ clock traffic on the 405 freeway in California, all the fucking mutants come out to stop in the middle of the hallway where your walking…. they think it’s a fucking buy one get one free sale of blowjobs at “Jenny the math class whore’s” locker.

 So you have to be aggressive and knock down every sick fucker like bowling pins at “Bowlerama”( the place to get more wasted than the people of Amsterdam, and drink gatorade out of your cupped hands) plow through them like it’s a riot….. then finally get to your fucking mayonnaise jar they call a locker, grab your books and get to the next mental ward meeting

If you are smart, you don’t need a locker…just carry all your heavy books in your backpack, and when you plow down some asshole , and he starts talking shit just say        “I didn’t know man” and pummel the bitch with your backpack— which is now a deadly weapon of disaster to any fuck that comes near you…. even Lance, the one every one fears, because he bullshits everyone into believing he’s a green beret. Well, I’ve got a front page news story for him

He walks the halls each day confident and relaxed  thinking no ones going to fuck with him, until that day when I come up behind him with a pack of books to the skull…while he’s talking to Beth. The hottest whore in high school. “Are you relaxed and confident now Lance”????

What I hate most about high school is years later when your doing your own thing. drinking heavily, brawling, and fucking all the fat chicks because your penis is more dried out than a prune field east of India….(get what you can right???)

 you stop into wendy’s for a doublestack and sitting behind the counter besides Rosie O’donnell, finishing the last of the chili in the pot…with her god damn head krammed in there like a midget at an airport urinal….you see the same fuck you pile drived…. his soft head through the drywall……… in the infamous “hall fight”

to the right of him, you see Kevin…the guy you owe  14 months of rent payment and public service bills to…because you skipped out of the apartment in the middle of the night…… jumping off the fucking roof after you found out he’s a faget…..he’s working the fry machine stroking the fucking chicken nugget box like Michael Jackson lubing up Macaulay Culkin

right about now your in a bad spot….so you just casually sprint out the back door and peel away like a fucking bank robber to Burger King down the street. That’s where you see Kathy, your ex-girlfriend…the one you left after she became to serious, the only thing you remember is catching a plane to Canada that night, after a heated argument and tears.

So by now you just say fuck it…. and go home and make your own damn sandwich your stomach’s growling worse than a rabid fox….. 





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