There's this guy, see? His name is Jim Patterson. I fucking hate him. I see him every day in class as I pull up to the college in my maroon 2001 Hyundai Elantra. John isn't a smart guy, see? The man is a complete narcissist. I don't have much room to talk, but I'm nowhere nearly as bad as John. The guy believes a simple glance at Wikipedia will make him an expert, and he uses this ploy as a basis for every argument he has in out political science class. Jethro loves arguing semantics, and that's how he feigns intelligence whenever he decides to get his hands dirty. I find this taxing, personally.
So one day I stumble across the man before class, on the computer, reading up on tonight's discussion topic.
"Gob, what the hell are you doing?"
"Why do you care?"
Now that simply wasn't very nice. You don't answer a question with a question. That's rule one of arguing. This amateur is doing it wrong.
"Answer my question first."
"Why should I?"
...I can see this wasn't going to be getting anywhere. I continued looking over his shoulder.
"Huh... you know reading that won't do you much good in class. Most of those sources aren't even cited properly."
"But it's on there, it has to be anchored in something."
"You can't prove that."
"It's on the page, that's good enough unless someone can argue against it."
"They will."
"I doubt it. No one usually argues against me."
That's rule two of arguing. Cite proper sources. Johan didn't know how to do this either. I was tempted to get into my 2004 Camry out in the parking lot and plow it into the side of the learning commons. I was going to, but my girlfriend advised against it since I just got the thing and I didn't want to damage the beautiful cobalt paint job. Instead we decided we were going to sabotage Jebediah in a different way.
He left his computer to go get a snack. That fat bastard is always eating. Did I mention he was fat? Jin was the size of a beached walrus, with two front teeth just as large. The man could eat my 1991 Teal Ford Taurus if I drove it anywhere near him, the cow. Anyways, me and my lady stole his chair and decided to edit the page he was looking on. We had to be quick; it took Jack about 3 minutes and 12 seconds to load his pudgy arms up with Hostess cakes before returning to the computer desk. After enough proper wiki sabotaging we believed that we might have achieved victory this time around. The porker shuffled his stubby legs back over to his computer table as he snickered and crammed his gullet with twinkies.
So my squeeze and I got into my 1966 orange Mustang and decided to go to In-N-Out and kill some time until class. When I got up to the drivethrough, I started belching out random words and see if it was on the secret menu or not. They gave us a a Vietnamese orphan glazed in secret sauce while his ass was stuffed with crispy fries. Huh, who would've guessed? Although my whore has a fetish for shota, so I threw him in the dumpster and just got a burger instead.
"Hmm... do you think he's going to get by?" she asked.
"They're Vietnamese. Our shit's probably considered a valuable import commodity to them. He'll be fine."
"No, I meant Joseph."
"Oh, that fatass? Bah, we'll be fine. After studying that, he's just going to make an idiot of himself again."
"You sure?"
"I'm positive." I brushed the food off my lap. "Now let's have sex before anyone in the parking lot notices us."
"But I just ate..."
"PLEASE?"
"...Alright." There was a long awkward pause as she took her clothes off. "Hngh... you're bigger than usual."
"......Sweetie, that's the stick shift."
You wouldn't believe how difficult it was to drive back to the college. I couldn't keep a good grip on the damn thing. Times like this make me wish my 2006 Ivory BMW was an automatic, but oh well. But right, how was the situation with Jesus going? He was in class, and ironically enough I think he bought into the idea that semen was being used as an alternative energy source in Lichtenstein, and then proclaimed that he could be an avid supporter of solving the energy crisis through this method. Of course everyone laughed. My teacher, old and crotchety but sharp as hell just went out and said it.
"Jimbo-bob, you're stupid as hell. I'm booting you from the class because all you do is get stupid sources."
Jaykwon didn't take this well. He ran from the class crying. At least that's what I assumed. I was lying face-down on my desk sleeping, but I felt the ground quaking tremendously. The the most recent time me and my cunt saw him was on the news from a live helicopter feed as he jumped off the i-580 overpass. He bounced and hit the ground pretty hard, then a bigrig smacked him on the ground while the remaining traffic shredded him into yesterday's memory like a bag of garbage being spewed all over the freeway. So it goes. I laughed at the thought of all the children being scarred as they watched the 6 'o'clock news tonight, so then I edited Jaberwalker's wikipedia page into saying that he died when he uncovered an illegal government operation and was executed by being shot into the sun.
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