I hate the honor roll…

I always hated the fucking thing.  I enjoyed school well enough, specifically the portions devoted to eating, and then playing after you ate.  But when it came to academics, I was out of my element, donnie.

I understand things well enough, I’m not an idiot.  Infact, some have called me, “Look at this asshole…is he the smartest man ever or something?  Get the fuck out of my way, dipshit!”

And as the smartest man ever or something, I think it’s my duty to state my opinion on the honor roll…

Fuck you honor roll.

Is that an opinion?  Or FACT.  I hated the pressure, which was funny, because you didn’t have to try much to get second honors or whatever.  Getting a 3.0 wasn’t too hard.  a 3.6 a stretch, and a 4.0 only exists in the minds of children.

I hated that stupid certificate, though I do remember taping each one to the wall of my room once I started getting them in about the 4th grade.  Up until the 4th grade they pinpointed why I was doing so badly in school due to the fact that I didn’t know how to operate a book, and that paper won’t attack me if I turned my gaze elsewhere.

One day if I have kids I’m going to purposefully teach them incorrectly so they never get one of those stupid awards.

“Dad, what’s the capital of Kansas?”

“Russia.”

“Dad, what’s a prism?”

“It’s where you send bad people.”

“Dad, can we go over the multiplication table?”

“That’s a sin.”

“Dad, I got on the honor roll!”

“Russia.”