Life's Instruction's:Baby's On Fire
*please note: this was originally published as the last article of my senior year of high school. it was in the last issue of the school newspaper, and was meant as a 'good bye' to the high school i had coincidentally dropped out of 3 months previous. in addition, the originally was heavily edited, but i can only find the final draft to retype here*
All of the other editors and newspaper staff are bawling about all their high school memories and trying to impart knowledge into your cranium about exactly what you should do with your life and why their 18 years on Earth in this school has taught them what life is REALLY about. SHA! Does anybody else see anything wrong with this??? I having been to other places and to my house more than once I therefore I feel I am the Supreme Being capable of writing Life's Little Instruction Booklets for the Rest of Us Dummies.
Lesson one: Stop doing something important. Like wearing underwear. Right now as I sit and write this article I'm not wearing underwear. It's great. Oh, here I go. Taking my shoes off. Woohoo. I feel so wild and free. Man has to be free. That's what life is about, being free. So always take free samples at Costco, at Safeway, always take them. You truly can't live without them, cause man was meant to be free.
Lesson two: Obsess about something. Eat lots and lots of sugar. Worry too much about why you're single. Get vaccinated, often.
Lesson three: When it hurts so bad, why's' it feel so good?
Lesson four: Stalk AT LEAST one person per day. Boyfriends/girlfriends do not count. You'll either be extremely popular, or an extremely popular prisoner. Either way, you'll make friends.
Lesson five: I would like to thank Mr. Meyers my math teacher for helping me be able to count this far. Five is a real accomplishment for some people. He taught me so much about the number five. Number of digits on each hand. Number of hairs on his head. Number of times Velma was required to say 'Jenkies!' per episode of Scooby Doo. Think about it. This column brought to you by the number 5. And the letter Five.
Normally I would keep going, but I have more important things to talk about. STOP SIGNING YEARBOOKS! Don't you people realize that your signature is on a contract to the devil??? Go find all the ones you've signed and scratch it out with steel wool. If you don't know what steel wool is, it comes from sheep who get too many minerals from the dirt in the grass they eat. They live near Pittsburgh, cause it's the steel capitol of the world.
By now I guess I should say that you should realize you are all going to grow up to be old and hairy. Even the girls. You know what wax is, just realize you're gonna use it everywhere when you're 60. You'll be so hairy that people will think you are French. You'll have to eat waxing cream so it oozes from your pores and you just put a Biore strip on your entire body every other day or so. It'll happen. You'll be sad. And guys, you'll break a hip. You will. Big strong men break hips. Viagra won't be around when we're 60. We will just be harvested and regulated. Regulated to be every other customer in line in fast food places so we can pay in nickels and complain about the price of discounted coffee. That way they will shut down and cows will rule the earth. They're being oppressed. Like Uncle Ben and the Chinese. Fresh off the boat, the San Francisco treat. Where do you think all his rice comes from?
But alas I'm rambling. Mountain dew makes you sterile. Drink more. And chew on your pens. Slurp.
And one more thing. Baby's On Fire. Foxy Penguin. 5,4,3 You know the rest. Jump everybody! Jump Everybody! Jump!!! It happens... in the car, on the bus, in your house, in your blender. Get over it.
You would of thought my editor would of taken out the incoherent jargon that doesn't make sense. But I told him I was clinically depressed and I'd put his name in my suicide note if he took it out. Manipulate people, it's so much fun. Go get 'em tiger!
Let's Get Rowdy! Whoo!