We have all been sent home. Oneonta does not welcome our company during the week of Thanks to be given. Something about a giant Turkey slaughter in the meal halls. Blood and feathers everywhere.
So this brings me to the conclusion that I am home for the next week. Thanksgiving; it’s a time for family, a time for long lines at the mall, a time for stupid football and parades. Nobody cares about Football or Parades. Stuffing is okay.
While everyone is giving thanks for their family and friends, their homes and their health, I will be ranting about mine. First of all, it’s too warm in this house. The wood stove is chugging away outside, making the entire house stuffy, and for some reason it only bothers me. May Glorack, destroyer of worlds, stick the corn dog of death in my face and stomp me flat for opening a window around here.
My bed is made out of large riveted floor slabs, and the waterbed in the guest room is constructed out of the same material the garbage heap from Fraggle Rock consisted of.
No console games until the big screen TV gets replaced with a 50 inch. This is defiantly cramping my lifestyle. The computer room’s chairs are made for the skeletal system of the Protoss and not for human assets. The computer desks come from the pre-mouse stage, and have no place for them. The connection speed is an archaic 5 mbps, and there are four computers sharing it at times.
As for the people in this town, I now present you with a tribute to them. These special people, Norwich grown, some with all of their teeth, are partially the reason why I loathe coming home. I wanted to go all out and use people’s names, but just to be fun, I’ll have a contest to see if you can guess if you are on the list! I’ll even through in a few Oneontians just to mix it up. Oh, and it’s Alphabetical according to your first name, not the made up name I am giving you.
I am all glittery inside now! Without further delay, I present you with my Big List of People I am Not Thankful For, also known as “BLOP IAN TiFF.”
Petty Pinky, you are more scandalous than you think you are. As much as hanging out with you is a blast, I’d rather crush my own skull than deal with your estrogenical ways.
Dino and Loin, honestly, you irk me to no end, and my hatred for you even surpasses my hatred for the Punk scene. You are the definition of immaturity, and to speak for the public, nobody likes your company.
Attention Grabbing Schlemiel, using your keen sense of judgment, you’ve thrown yourself into commitment when in reality you change your mind more than I update my computer. Try and rationalize your actions until you are blue in the face, you are still nothing more than a rabid squirrel in heat.
Squasher, I have been waiting to publicize this. You are a manipulative, conniving, selfish mass of evil. You are completely heartless, and to think I thought the opposite of you not so long ago. Your treachery is no longer hidden. You’ve lost my support, backstabber. I hope you choke on a turkey bone.
Mother of all that is Downhill, you are not from Norwich, nor do you go to Oneonta, anymore. I hope I just spoiled this for you. You have gone down hill since the day I met you. I blame myself really, for it is I who introduced to you humane thinking. Without me, you would still be savagely eating light bulbs and kicking in drinking fountains. Now, you are a worthless stoner alcoholic, with nothing to show for it. You try and be trendy, you try and be smart, but you simply, simply, cannot contend with advance processes such as reasoning. Your language is impossible to translate and your habits are disgusting. How does it feel to be on a downward spiral?
Creepy Stalker, I do not regret confusing you, hurting your feelings, and offending all that you live for. In fact, if I didn’t, you would still be calling me every day and expecting me to drive a half hour just to visit your mom. The only thing I do regret, is not telling you to eat your three-year-old niece, because I didn’t want to offend your sister at the time. Quilting is not cool topic, you cannot sing or dance, and I would rather pinch my eyes out of the sockets than listen to you speak. Sometimes I wish you literally knew what the internet was, so that you could read this. Dumb creep.
Inconsistent Liar, you are very confused. You believe in angels, but not aliens. How can you not believe there is nothing else out there, among a million trillion stars, but you believe in semi-transparent people with big fluffy wings? Besides all that, you play with words to convince your motives, and then act otherwise. Then you cry about it when what you didn’t say didn’t happen the way you wanted it to. I have no respect for you.
Little Pop Kid, you are a douche.
As for anyone else, most likely, you have made my life a little less colorful.
Happy Tofurkey Day!
WHERE AM I CHRIS!!!!~Shelly
Sounds like fun, going back home…
Son…I haven’t kicked a water fountain since freshman year! And you have not noticed my new way of typing online! I understand what you mean about “what” you introduced to me. I love you, and you made me laugh. Partially true about me, but I deserve more credit than that!