How was school?

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How was School?

Bad.
Just awful.
There were crazy people running around hitting people with rulers and raw trout while screaming their heads off.
They were throwing salmon at the crippled kids.
They were throwing live rats at already sick kids and tossing goldfish at the mentally handicapped.

Excellent.
Fantastic.
None of the teachers showed and we all got to fill the cafeteria with water and go fishing. There was then a snowball fight with the fish we caught instead of snow.
We then launched potatoes from the fish mouths at the other 214 schools
We also had puppies and kittens run rampant and shred all the teachers’ grade books. Best day ever.

Awful.
I finally got the balls to ask a girl out,
She then slapped me,
Turned me down,
Stole my pocky,
And burned my bag.
Now I’m off to go and buy some more pocky to comfort myself.

Epic.
Dragons attacked and tore the place down while we were all on a surprise field trip to Arlington racetrack.
I also got asked out.
I accepted of course the date is tomorrow at 7:30. We are going to see Cabin in the Woods and eat pocky.
Then we are going to Peggy Kinnane’s for burgers and beer while we play trivia.
Yes, beer.
Even though I’m underage.
Best day ever.

Awful.
Well, it was good for a while.
Then someone kicked the bucket.
Figuratively and literally.
He kicked a bucket.
It then bounced off the wall and hit him in the head.
He then stumbled back and got impaled on someone’s marshmallow stick.
After that he fell onto the fire pit and knocked it over, spilling all of the pocky.

Brilliant.
Absolutely epic.
But I don’t see why I should tell you what happened.
It’s just so epic that your mind can’t comprehend it.
I mean, seriously.
From the ghosts to the rats to the flying sandwiches.
And let’s not forget the land piranha stampede.
Don’t think about it.
You’ll give yourself a migrane.
Seriously.
Don’t.

Don’t bother asking.
You know my answer will never change.
It will always be that same one word answer.
Boring.
Or maybe three words.
Boring as hell.
Nothing ever happens at school.
Especially not the stuff that I said in that poem.
Don’t ask again.





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