In 1988, I used to keep myself entertained by trapping flies inside a bottle and shaking them as hard as I could until they nearly puked themselves in a dizzy fit of sickness. The reasons for me doing so were twofold. Firstly, I liked hurting things. Secondly, my parents just wouldn’t give in to buying me whatever the latest, most expensive toy in the market was. They just wouldn’t understand when I told them that there were only so many battles you could fight with G.I. Joe figures before things turned really gay. Almost twenty years later, I’m keeping myself entertained by jacking my Cobra Ferret looking at an enlarged picture of Hayden Panettiere sticking her tongue out. I blame my present state on the unadventurous, unexciting childhood I had, growing up in the eighties and early nineties. I strongly feel that I should have been born after 1996 so that eleven years later, when I’m at that most exciting period of childhood, my parents wouldn’t be gifting me shitty-ass action figures for Christmas. Instead, my dad would gift me a box of grenades and my mom would surprise me with a 9mm semi automatic. Alas! If only I could be a kid in the 21st century…ideally in America.
               I can picture what it would be like. I wake up in the morning next to my 28-year-old Math teacher, her sweaty sex-smelling face resting on my scrawny ten-year-old hairless chest. I press my knee against her pubes and rouse her from her sleep. I look at my teacher’s mathematical face and say, “What’s the expansion of (a + b) whole squared, bitch?”. She goes down on me. I reply, “That’s right.” I look at her and ask, “Now tell me the truth, is high school math actually useful at any point in real life?” She stops giving me head for an instant and answers, “As useful as underwear for Britney Spears; as useful as a seminar on self-esteem by Owen Wilson; as useful as an SUV in Al Gore’s garage; as useful as rational thinking in India.” I interrupt my math teacher, point to my boner, and say, “That’s enough. Now get back to solving this problem.”
               I tell my calculus whore to stop at two places on the way to school. First, I pay a visit to my crack-whores to collect my pimp dough. Next, I rob a liquor store, get pissed out of my mind, and take the wheel. I don’t drive unless I’m drunk. Meanwhile, my math ho decides to analyze the probability of sucking me off before we reach school. After about fifteen minutes, she works out that the probability is really high. I walk into school, slap my Mexican teacher’s ass and remind her of our interracial teacher-student group orgy on Friday night. Then suddenly I hear shots being fired. I quickly dive behind the Ecstasy-vending machine in the hallway and take cover. I unzip my backpack, arm myself with my .357 Magnum and get ready for the first hour of school. I gun down a couple of Koreans, a bunch of white trash, two black guys, five Arabs, and pistol-whip my principal’s balls. When the bell rings I proceed upstairs where a second session of open firing commences.
                Lunchtime arrives. I enter the canteen and stuff myself with mushrooms, LSD, and PCP. I wash it down with a glassful of Bourbon. Afterwards, I rape the entire cheerleading team and spooge into their ears. Then they do a wonderful routine honoring me: “Give me an R. Give me an A. Give me a P. Give me an E. What do you get? – That’s right, a lifetime of trauma and a psychopathic bastard child.”
                In gym class, I persecute Jews and Muslims. Then I unleash the angry Jews upon the black students under the false pretext that they stole their lunch money. I provide the Muslim students with some guns and a couple of airplanes and convince them that the Christians masturbate on the Koran just for the heck of it. I drop 40 lb barbells on the spines of Asian students and turn them all into paraplegics. I chain my gym teacher’s two legs onto two poles and keep dropping bowling balls on his testicles till they are squashed to a bloody pulp. Then I take my exit but not before spitting on his face.
              After school I hijack an old lady’s car by smacking her in the head with a sledgehammer. After pulling her out and hurling her into the middle of the road I assault her further with a taser till she starts foaming at her crinkly old ass. I reach home, park the old lady’s car next to the horse carriage I stole from an Amish priest. I play with my XBOX 360 for 3 hours, my PS3 for 4 hours, my Wii for 3.5 hours, and my dick for 20 minutes. I cuss my parents, throw chicken soup on my sister, and go to my room. I spend two hours on the Internet keeping track of my multimillion dollar worth software company, hack into the Vatican website, draw a pair of tits on the Pope, and show holy water dripping out of it. Before sleeping, I visit my three-year-old younger brother, chokeslam him onto a bed of nails and hurl his punctured body out of the window. I get back to my room, read the Bible, and sleep with a baby, and then like one. I’ve got a long day tomorrow what with the big Math test and all. But I have a feeling I’ll do alright.

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