Insulted

Dear America's Future Failures,

          Kindly crawl back into whatever ditch you managed to come out of. No one in their right mind wants to deal with your surprisingly consistent ability to succeed at not following directions and forgetting important information seconds after it has been uttered. The drool dripping from your mouths as vacant expressions take over your faces is truly disgusting. I hope that I never have the distinct displeasure of having my head filled with air like yours.

With love,

Kingston

           That is the current rough draft of my speech/essay for this damned to hell English class. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will not over well with my dear peers of the future. Rather, it may insult the few fellow halfway intelligent classmates who may figure out that I may not be joking this time around. This may prove to be a mistake for my social life but then, that's what killer parties are for.

          As for my dear charming English teacher, well, I have the belief (read, strong, strong hope) that she'll enjoy it. The generic same old approach to assignments bore her half to tears; from what I can gather at least. Where as my take on the inspirational speech will likely make her smile to herself... Up until the madness of insulted teenagers becomes a problem.

           By the time that terrible revelation hits them the class should, with luck, be over for the day. The joys of asking for the last slot (and thankfully getting it) are almost endless. Had I been forced into the first slot of the period I would likely fair... Not so well to put it mildly. Every spot between my own and the end would result in growing pandemonium and hurtful jabs from my unpleasant, but socially necessary table mates. Fortunately, I will be presenting that rude speech at the end

           And, if my memory serves me, at least one (if not two) of my three table chums is stuck inspiring the masses as well. So they'll be busy fretting about their own miserable speech and less than focused on mine. Rather, Lisa will be fretting and double checking (then triple checking) all of her oh so precious notes. Then, if Eric is presenting, it will be me painstakingly helping him prepare for it like the oh such good friend that I am. Read, I am doing it to continue to stake a claim in the franchise of rich connections. Because while their children may lack intelligence, the parents and their well off friends certainly do not. After all, the perfect way to break free of this middle class life is to infiltrate something higher than it.