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In roughly five hours and fifteen minutes, I’m gonna have to be in court. Doesn’t that sound so glamourous? Don’t I sound like Tom Cruise in a John Grisham movie?
Actually, I’m trying to make it sound vaguely exciting for me. Tomorrow is jury selection day for me and unfortunately, the code-a-phone said it wasn’t cancelled again which means I have to show up at eight fucking fifteen in the fucking morning and waste God knows how much time.
Like I said earlier, I got shit luck with courts. Hopefully they’ll let me off for school. Hopefully I won’t even be selected for the interview process.
This sucks.
In fact, the rest of this month sucks.
With all the waiting around involved with jury selection, hopefully I’ll be able to work on my grad app. Yes, it’s that fucking time of the year again. The Hairy Editor advised me to write my own statement of objectives before I start on the real version. That way, psychologically, it’ll be less of a kiss-ass waste of time for me. I think I’ll try that. Try read this and tell me how it sounds.
Dear Pompus, Pretentious Dickheads of the English Department,
You fucking suck shit.
Anyway, yes it’s me again. That’s right, the guy you rejected the first time is back to get fucked in the ass by you “literate” turds.
How can you benefit from having me in your little playhouse? Well, honestly? After two years of academically twiddling my thumbs in your department, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of boneheads in your program. A lot of them are overweight. I, thankfully, am not. Also, a lot of them have bad body odor. I, thankfully, bathe regularly. A lot of them like to work on creative writing thesises involving figure skating. I, thankfully, can barely roller blade.
This girl I know, also an English major, complained of the dirth of attractive males within the English department. Not to say that I’m Brad Pitt, but, at least I’m a normal human being. I mean seriously folks, do you really want to spend time with someone who actually had enough time on their hands to read the complete works of Jane Austen? There’s fun.
Haven’t you had enough angst for one lifetime? Isn’t it about time to helplessly observe someone splitting infinitives? Please, I’m begging you. You don’t need to be moody and socially inept to produce good fiction. For that matter, do you really need one more collection of boring short story thesises? Live a little for God’s sake! You need a little more fun already! Light a cigarette, break out the hula hoop. You know you want it.
I'm through kissing your conceited asses. You can take away one year of my life, but you can't take my FREEDOM!
Sincerely,
Actually,
I Could Give A Shit Already,
Kitsune Mifune.
Gene Siskel was a wonderful film critic and colleague. Although we’ve never met, I’ve often admired his work and I’m quite certain, he admired mine. I’m not kissing ass here. I actually liked him better than Roger “Hostess Fat Boy” Ebert. I always felt that Roger was always too easy on movies, giving four stars to anything that made his pussy ass cry. Gene was tougher. He was a manly film critic. I even identified with his baldness.
It really does sadden me when I realize that now, Lard Ass is gonna get all the attention. This weekend, I saw a video that said “Two thumbs up-- Siskel And Ebert.” That was really sad because I realized now those ad-plugs on positively reviewed films in the newspaper will read, “One big blubbery thumb up.”
It is a shame Gene Siskel never lived to see the next James Bond film, The World Is Not Enough. He probably would’ve liked it.
Spunker
Aaron’s Movie
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