Sunday, March 26, 2006

Forgotten

That curly-headed asshole fuckwit was at it again. Berating
some girl because she didn't project her voice. "You're
boring," he said, pointing his shit-stinking finger right in
her face. "I've forgotten you already." How could he forget
her for a single moment. Take a look at her face you dirty
prick. Take one fucking look. I don't remember her face
exactly but I know it was stunning. Two more people. Then it
would be my turn. That one kid and that other girl. Then me.
Don't be boring. Shit. Just that one girl. Then me. I should
stand up on my desk. And holler my name as loud as I can.
Hah! No. I'll do it. I will. Fuck. Now I'm nervous. It's just
a fucking introduction and I'm all worked up. I feel like a
trembling, ghost-faced asthmatic junky and oh shit here I go.
Up on the desk. "RICHARD FUCKING WILLIAMS!" I shouted.
Remember that asshole. The whole class fell silent. And even
that pompous git-faced shitbox was taken aback. He leaned
back and touched his lips with his stink finger. More
silence. "I wanted you to remember me," I said. "Right, I get
it," he said quietly. "What was your name again?"

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