Last Week of Fuck-All

Sometimes, I wish that I had been given a character creation screen. You know, like one of those video games where you can cherry-pick all aspects of your character. Things like facial features, body type, hair, ethnicity, special skills, special flaws, superpowers and so on. Then I could've chosen to be a cyborg. Looks perfectly human, but with a processing chip, not a fucking heart. A cold, logical, machine. No emotions, no morality, no complexities of life. Just logic, reason, and a goal. It would bloody well have made my life easier. I mean, I'd probably be the perfect bloody Terminator, if you remove all my flaws and my emotions. It's a pity, then, that I never got to that screen. All I got was the randomizer. Just like everyone else, really. No point complaining about it. But sometimes, I wish.

Last week of school. Apart from the exam. I'm ignoring that. Most tiresome semester ever. Probably to blame for the high blood pressure. Too many fucking idiots. I'm one of them, sometimes, so don't go crying about language, or moral high grounds, or painting people with the same brush. Who the fuck ever came up with that line, anyway? Painting people with the same brush. It's not like anyone would literally do that. Bloody waste of paint.

Where was I? Right, too many fucking idiots. Yep, I meant that. And if you're reading this and wondering hey, did he mean me, then what the fuck do you think? But there's light at the end of your tunnel. I hope it's a train. End of the semester, I'm gone. Finished. What passed for a casual acquaintance, and was probably just a vindictive rivalry, done. I'm removing you all from my life, as you would probably want to do to me. Let's not piss around. You lot think I'm an arrogant bastard, and I think you're worth less to the world than the sticky, decaying gob of pink gum I found stuck to my shoe that one time, so don't pretend to be anything else. Rather not see you again for as long as I live, however short that is. Or long. Doesn't really matter either way. In the grand scheme of things, it never does. And yes, the list is long and distinguished. Just like my Johnson. Make of that what you will. Or not. You probably didn't get the reference, did you, you lilliputian-brained slime-sucking imbeciles.

And if anyone wants to call me out on all the aforementioned statements, you can't take a fucking joke, can you? Fuck you, and go fuck the yeti you rode in on.