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So Here I Sit... So here I sit, trying to write an article the old fashioned way, with a pen and paper. In the six months I’ve been writing for this page this is the first time I have physically written. So, as I sit here I can think of nothing to write about. Fuck! It feels a bit like shelling out $200 for a prostitute and not being able to get an erection (not that I would pay for a piece of rotten pussy nor have I ever suffered from erectile difficulties but I am merely making an analogy that I feel my readers might be able to relate too, although I added an extra 0 to make them feel better). I am pretty angry but nothing specific comes to mind. Maybe I’ll write about all the fuck heads that have taken up all the benches here at school leaving me to sit on the wall of a crumbling planter that houses no plants. I can write about them yapping aimlessly about shit no one cares while sitting on MY bench as I sit uncomfortably writing what might one day be considered the greatest piece of literature ever written….ever. No fuck them. They are not interesting. I need to write something interesting or no one will read this and people will stop coming to my site and I will be left all alone. Maybe I’ll write about all the fat ass construction workers that are on campus. My school is going through a $256 million renovation so these ass holes are everywhere. These idiots spend their days standing around, scratching their fat asses, looking at holes in the ground and staring at girls that are old enough to be their daughters (if in fact they were actually capable of getting laid in the first place). Maybe I can write about my hatred of them. These fucks can barely read yet they make nearly the same amount of money as teachers with advanced degrees. Only in America can a laborer stay fat. Fuck them. I’m not going to waste my time writing about their fat asses. So what the hell can I write about? Maybe I’ll write about the chick that just walked by that I have been flirting with for sometime now. Holy shit she actually remembered my name. I could write all about how she just said hi but I was too busy writing this to acknowledge her. By the time I had processed her greeting it was too late. Fuck! No sex tonight. I guess I could write about that, but that’s really all there is. If I had a diary it would consist of 3 words written each day. No sex tonight. As I sit here I can hear the T.V. blaring from the Sociology class I took last year. The same fucking video we saw last year on serial killers. The same video that had me fucked up for a week because I fit the “profile” perfectly. The same damn video. God, it must be depressing being a teacher. The same shit day after day, month after month, year after year. I couldn’t imagine teaching for 10, 20 or 30 years, answering the same stupid questions, reading the same stupid books, and watching the same stupid videos. How do they do it? Maybe the $58 an hour helps. Yeah that sure would help. So back to the question at hand. What the fuck can I write about? Nothing is coming to mind and I haven’t updated my site in a few weeks. I can think of no subject in which I can fill an entire article about. -sigh- Maybe I’ll write about bowling class. That’s right I said bowling class. I’ll be there in a few hours. Bowling class is the highlight of my Wednesday afternoon. I can write about all the fat people in the class. It’s not surprising that all the fat people have chosen bowling as their physical education class. That or golf, which is taught by the same instructor for some reason. Maybe I can write about how bad I suck at bowling. No, that won’t do. My readers will never believe that I suck at anything. Maybe I’ll write about all my bowling related injuries. I can talk about my ass muscle that I pulled twice, or my 105 handicap. Maybe I can write about my team (3 people) getting our ass kicked by one single Asian kid. I can write about all the fat chicks in the class. I think a message must have gone out to the fat girl network because they’re all here and they’re all the same teams. If I get to class late I can forget finding a ball with large finger holes because these cows take them all. Fucking heffers. I’ll put that topic in the maybe pile. I might be able to write an entire article on bowling class, but not now. So what to write? Maybe I can write about my Anthropology teacher (the class I am waiting for). She is a skinny, pail broad that looks like Ichabod Crane with long hair. I can write about how she annoys the hell out of me by talking in questions. “So we’ll get started”? “Today’s lesson will be on Charles Darwin and the bullshit theory of evolution”? “Charles Darwin was British”? “He married his cousin”? Fuck that is annoying. What’s more annoying is that she thinks she’s cute. Eat a fucking sandwich you skinny bitch. Maybe I can write about the way she teaches genetics, talking to us like a guilty white person talks to a black man. With over-the-top cheer and a gaping smile in the hopes that we might understand her better and forget that she can’t teach for shit. No, I won’t write about her either. Fuck her. So what the fuck should I write about? George Bush? Iraq? More words on porn? I don’t think I’ve done an article on racism yet. No, fuck racism. Should I write about how great I am? No, that is common knowledge. Well it seems that despite my desire to write, I have nothing to say. Oh well. My loyal fans will have to find some other way to entertain themselves. I guess I will just sit here. I will sit and think about all the shit that pisses me off but refuse to write about. Yup, that’s what I’ll do. So here I sit. -= Bagoda =- |