I really like the sweater you wore to school today. I don't think you've ever really noticed me. I don't get all this algebra stuff, do you? What do we need to know it for anyway? It's not like anyone ever actually uses it! So there's Mrs. Whifflinger droning on and on about squaring this and squaring that, like I give a rat's ass anyway. I didn't even have my algebra book open! If I did they'd see where I wrote Josie and G, like a million times with my leaky blue bic pen so that my smudgy blue fingereprints are all over the place so that even the halfwitts in Missing Textbooks Forensics will be able to figure out I did it. Big whoop! What are they gonna do? Pack me off to the salt mines? Please do ! Put me out of my misery! I threw a paper airplane at you in studyhall this morning. I wrote "I think you're cute" on one wing and" Do you like me?" on the other and I tossed it at you, but it hit that big fat jock, Jimmy Twodoor on the back of the head and he picked it up and turned around and looked right at me and said ,"I'm gonna kick your faggoty ass!" Sigh. Oh well. I'm gonna get my ass kicked and be sent to the salt mines. At least I'll have you to dream about.
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