Thursday, November 17, 2011

Edumacation Degree

So I tried to get myself an edumacation in college again, after dropping out the first time. So this is how it all went down:

I walked on campus and looked around for my dorm room. After talking with the front office, I found that I had been "demoted" to hobo status on the campus and had to stay in a cardboard box during my edumacation.

Well, needless to say, I didn't feel I was getting the fair and equal opportunity everyone else got. I stayed the night in my box anyway. All night long, the dogs in the yard nearby kept barking at me and would rattle the chain fence.

The next day I woke up unrefreshed and feeling sad. This situation made me sad inside, so sad that I decided to express my emotions by telling someone that I was sad. When I feel sad, I feel sad inside. So sad, in fact that I lose my ability to use non-syllabic vocabulary to describe my emotions.

So I went to the front office of my college to ask them about my dorm, requesting a transfer. They said they'd look into the situation, and perhaps I might become promoted to "normal student" whatever that means.

My first class that day was Modern-Classic Literature. When I got into the lecture hall, the teacher stood in front of the class and read Goodnight Moon. Then he sat down in his chair, closed his eyes, then fell asleep.

This gave me some time to converse with the rest of the rest of the students, most of whom were wearing wife-beaters and baggy pants. I tried my best to speak to them, but they would insist on using another language filled with nonsensical English phrases like "pop a cap in yo [censored for children under the age of 40]"

The confusing part of that phrase was that none of the students had any bottlecaps, only pistols that they carried on them at all times.

Also, they kept refering to eating stuff as "shanking". I didn't quite understand this because they kept saying the phrase "I will shank you". But that wouldn't make any sense because looking at people's mouths, there were only 50 teeth among the 20 total students.

I was very confused when I returned to my dormatory. I couldn't understand what kind of a college I had paid for. I was even more confused when I found out I had to share my dorm with 40 other people.

I decided I liked being able to move my arms more than I like to keep my 25 square foot cardboard box.

My next class was Mathematics. The class began with a this equation on the board:

5 x 6 + 2 = ?

I rubbed my hands together in excitement. This class was going to be really easy. Then the teacher came into the room. He looked at the board and then started laughing.

I looked around nervously. All the other students seemed really nervous too, all of them staring at the simple problem.

The teacher laughed for about 20 minutes, then took out an eraser. He stood in front of the class while erasing, tears still in his eyes from laughing so hard. Then he said something that made me about pass out.

"Don't worry guys, you won't have to learn anything this hard. Our first lesson is word problems."

So the entire class period was solving even simpler problems that were posed as "extremely difficult". For example:

A crack-head of your is hitt'n' a pawn shop. He put 2 dollars in his pockets and had 3 dollars in his hands when he left the place. How much cash did he have on him when the cops stopped him?

I was horrified at their answer:

None, foo. Only white boys leave the evidence on them when being chased by the po-po.

I put my hands in my pockets. I had 5 dollars. That was enough to convince me to get out of there as quickly as possible. I ran with all of my might and left the campus. I heard sirens and saw red and blue lights. I gave one last look behind myself and noticed the name of the college on a sign:


Ghetto / Hobo College: The Poorest Place in Town

I knew the police would have this place surrounded 24 / 7 with a name like that. So I decided that running on foot was not going to help me escape from the police, so I got on a bus. I would have gotten away.but the bus drive thought it was necessary to honk and scream at anybody she saw on the road.

The police caught up with me while the bus driver was screaming at the officers.

Now I'm in Jail. But, with a donation of $10 from 20,000 people, we can get me out on bail.

So donate now at

1-800-STEALYOMONEY

If you donate now with $100,000, we'll even send you a real-life picture of a car.

So what are you waiting for? You know the number! Just call!

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