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assignment

I’m a college man now. Even though I’m supposed to be a step up from high school, I’m glad to see that I still take the same approach to my homework assignments.
Every high school student has their own expectations about college. I always thought college was a place where you spent 16 hours a day in class and the other 8 hours doing homework. After an interesting encounter with a teacher I mine, I realized that I was mistaken. You spend 8 hours in a class and 16 hours doing homework. I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than two hours on homework before in my life, so jumping from 2 to 16 is like jumping off a cliff without a parachute. You might survive, but, lets face it, you’re fucked.

So I’ve always feared that going to school would force me to overcome my addiction, sleep. Unlike insomniacs, I’m hooked on sleeping. I just need a hit of sleep every day. If I don’t get it, I’m cranky, irritable and angry. (Although, depending on who you ask, I could experience these symptoms even when I’m well rested.)

Another expectation I had was with classes and homework taking up so much of my time and effort, I would never be allowed to have a social life. Although this really isn’t something I dread over, seeing as I have never had a social life to begin with. (Cue gut-busting laughter)

Aside from the mile-high stack of homework assignments, insomnia and lack a social life another fear I had was the teacher. I’ve had teachers before, lots of em. One thing I’ve noticed in my life is that the more experience a teacher was, the more satanic they were. Now, I’m not saying I’ve never had good teachers before. What I am saying is that if one of my past teachers were hit by a moving bus or train, I probably wouldn’t be the one dialing 9/11. So you can imagine my feelings towards a professor with immense experience.

One last thing that seemed to bite my ass was the fact that I had to pay to go to school. All my life I’ve hated school because they forced me to do something that I deemed unnecessary, learn. But I never had to pay for it. With college, however, I gotta pay money and a lot of it. the PS3 and the new Nintendo are coming out this year and they’re not going to be cheap. So the idea of me paying large amount of cash to have some old fart with a degree torture me seemed, pardon my lack of extensive vocabulary, retarded. I pay my doctor to cure what ails me, I pay my dentist to clean my teeth, I pay my girlfriend so she won’t leave me, and now I gotta pay to have a teacher assign me homework and then tell me I did it wrong? A brother only has so much money.

In conclusion, I hope I get an ‘A’ on this assignment.

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Another Humorous (Or Humourous depending on where you’re from) Essay

I didn’t enter this essay contest (not like I’d win anything) but I wrote on the promt given to me. (Which is: Assume that your neighborhood has recently seen a drastic increase in crime. Further assume that you have 100 individual home owners and no commercial property located in your neighborhood. Outline a three step plan to help reduce the crime rate in your area. ) So, here’s the essay.

Since the “drastic increase in crime” does not specify what the “crime” is, I can only assume they’re talking about…..a lot of things. Lets face it, downloading music is a crime, double parking, stalking, molestation, listening to Marilyn Manson and playing Grand Theft Auto (According to old people, these two only apply to teens since adults are immune to do crazy things based on what they see on video games), and that’s only the bottom of the iceberg. And what neighborhood only has 100 fucking houses? Is this the Andy Griffith Show? Son of a bitch, no wonder crime is up. Andy and Barney aren’t here to protect us by not doing anything! (Am I the only one that noticed that the show lacks any group of minorities?) Since the crime is unmentioned I can only assume that you mean crime in the general and traditional sense.

Step 1: Buy a shotgun and beer.
This seems like such an obvious step but people do tend to overlook it. The only known antidote to crime is shotguns and beer. (Ask any redneck.) The shotgun will be used to “take care of” the criminal (Since the police are, apparently, too lazy to help you) and the beer is for the celebration potluck you’ll have after the criminals have been “stopped”.

Step 2: Find the criminal
How the fuck are you supposed to stop the crime without finding the criminal and bringing him to justice? Now, with only 100 houses in your neighborhood, finding the criminal shouldn’t take longer than a Saturday afternoon. (So it doesn’t cut into your NASCAR time) Criminals are notorious for picking hide outs like abandoned warehouses, abandoned cars, abandoned houses (Just anything fucking abandoned!) secluded alleys, secluded parks, secluded anything! Just watch TV shows and you already know where the criminals are. They aren’t too bright when it comes to choosing a hiding place.

Step 3: Stop the criminal
There’s really no point in doing steps one and two (Ok, there is a reason to step one, you constantly need beer) if you’re not willing to follow through with step three. When you find criminals they tend to do one of three things:
1) Shoot you
B)Run away
$)Shoot you and run away like pussies
Now, obviously, when you spot the criminal you’ll want to shoot him before he (or she, there are female criminals) is able to do any of the aforementioned things. It’s easy, as soon as you spot the criminal, you shoot. Sure, there’s a slight chance that you might mistake someone else (Say, your in-laws) for criminals but, seriously, FUCK THEM! They think you smell like ass. Shoot to kill,

After completing the three steps you’re going to want to use the beer (bought in step one, remember) to celebrate. And if there’s more than one of you in your little vigilante party, make sure you each bring a different type of beer (For variety) and enough for everyone (So no one gets angry and, I don’t know, starts killing people.) With these three simple steps, you’ll be able to handle any dumbass (Or intelligent ass) criminal that crosses your path.

P.S. I am not responisble for any action you may/may not do due to reading my essay.

Scholarship Essay

Another Scholarship entry. If you had one million dollars what charity would you donate it to? (That’s fucking bullshit, I’d keep the money) With essays like this, I may never get an endorsement.

Lets face it, if any of us won a million dollars, we’d never, in a million years, give it up to charity. We spent our entire lives entering contests and sweepstakes and we certainly aren’t going to let our only victory going to waste on poverty stricken individuals, especially since our new Hummer H3 takes a C-Note just to fill up the tank. However, if we were already fabulously wealthy before winning such a large sum of money, I’m sure we’d be more than willing to part with a million to aid those less fortunate (In more ways than one) than ourselves.

The one charity I’d donate the million to would be the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, because they just don’t seem to have enough money. I’m just kidding about that last part, they have more than enough money. The reason why I’d give it to them is because Bill and I are good friends (I sent him a Best Friends Forever, BFF, ring a few years ago but I sent it snail mail so I assume he hasn’t received it yet.) So me giving his organization money would be like giving money to a good friend. I mean, how many people can say “Hey, I’m the richest man in the world AND I’m in charge of a large charity organization?” (Answer: Just one, William Henry Gates III.) Not only is he in charge of Microsoft, (Motto: Our OS has crashed more than all our competitors combined!) The company that gave the world the Windows Operating System and the “blue screen of death” he will also be the chairmen of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation (Motto: We want to help poverty-stricken people so that they too may experience the “blue screen of death”.)

Don’t be fooled, this charity is more than just a Red Cross with a different Operating System (Computer humor for you), the B&MGF (Short for Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation ) along with other fine organizations aids needy students, such as myself, with scholarships (I.E. Money) so that we may all become educated without becoming debt ridden and forced to tell corny jokes on street corners. Other than giving aid to earthquake victims and the Philippine Rice Research Institute (Something like that actually exists?!) The B&MGF also supports other organizations by supplying them with, and I can’t stress this enough, money to build libraries, which is odd, in my opinion because I figured Bill (My BFF, remember?) Would be in favor of an online library, where one could read books through the comfort of their home and a blue screen of death. I don’t see why that wouldn’t work, Wikipedia.org has already made Encyclopedia Britannica obsolete. You know what, this idea is so great, I’m thinking of calling ol Bill up and telling him that he, using the 1 million dollars I’ll be giving him, should head a project up that would great a gigantic online library where millions of people can read their favorite books without having to travel anywhere because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m really lazy. After we’ve created an online library, Bill and I (Melinda is, technically, just the secretary) will take down global poverty, which shouldn’t take more than a month or two. (Three tops. How many poor people can there be in the world?) After curing the ails of the world, our last act within the charity organization will be to build a gigantic air conditioning unit for the world because it’s really hot outside.

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Comics

Comic

WWIII

Before I begin, I’d just like to point out that the last entry about me being technologically illiterate (I.E. Stupid) is completely false and was only written for humorous purposes. I don’t call Cameron everyday to ask for help, hell I don’t even have his phone number. Does he even have a phone? I also haven’t seen/heard from him for about half a month now. He’s probably dead, which is saddening because he still owed me money and now I have no one to help me draw comics. If you’re interested int he position, just give me an email at felman87@gmail.com

Is it World War III? Short answer, no, long answer, hell no, very long answer, are you fucking kidding me. But I’ve heard some giddy people (conservatives) proclaiming that it is World War 3 and that the Rapture will come shortly after. (Do they know something we don’t? I don’t remember the bible saying the second coming would commence as soon as the right wing gives Jesus the thumbs up) So it’s not World War 3 and the world won’t end, hopefully, because The Nintendo Wii and Playstation 3 are set to come out later this year. So it’d suck if we all died right when we were getting to the good stuff in life.

On an off note, kudos to whoever wrote “Jon’s Movies Suck” in the poll box. You gave me a good chuckle there and I would reward you if I only knew who put it there. (Ed- Jon, your vote on the movies don’t count. And don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.) I’ve advise Jon to allow me to script his movies, which would be about a hot lesbian female ninja and I would be the comedic black side kick who always gets into trouble and sucks at fighting. There would be some kissing scenes between said female ninja and just about every other hot girl she comes across (Fan service and promotional stuff for movie trailers so people will come watch.) Sounds like the next Hollywood hit to me. I always knew I’d make a fantastic useless side kick.

Job Application

http://felsbestpageintheworld.com/

“The economy is on a roll” says our president. BULLSHIT!!! The economy is in the shitter. Other than subway and Mexican slave labor (I’m not even Mexican) I can’t find a single fucking job!

So naturally I applied for Subway because that PSfucking3 isn’t going to fucking pay for itself! What a shitload of fuck! So I filled it out, got all the 3rd grade math questions right, pretty sure I got my name and address right (That’s always a hit or miss) but when it came to the date I couldn’t remember what it was. “What the FUCK it today’s date!?” Now, I know you’re in your comfortable chair, laughing your ass off but I’m not good with dates. So naturally I spent more time trying to remember the date than any other part of the application. “FUCK! I don’t know! But I can’t ask anyone for the date cause I’m a guy and it’d be pretty fucking retarded of me.
Me:What’s today’s date?
Manager: You don’t know the fucking date? What are you, some kinda dateless fucker? I can’t hire someone who doesn’t know his fucking dates!
Me: FUCK!!!!!
And asking someone else is pretty pointless cause this might happen
Me: Excuse me, miss, but do you happen to have the date?
Hot bitch: Get the fuck away from me, pervert. Ahnold, take care of this shit!
Big buff Ahnold: It would be my pleasure, Miss Daisy.
Me: FUCK!!!!!

And I can’t get the job if I’m dead! Luckily, thanks to my psychic powers, I was able to read someone’s mind and figure out today was the 28th. Why is it that a Psychic like me is forced to get a job at a fast food restaurant? Cause the economy is in the shitter. FUCK you Bush and all your fucktard republicans who granted themselves a $30,000 raise but won’t raise my wage 2 fucking dollars!! Which is fucking retarded because the more I earn, the more they can steal from me, the fucking bastards! I’m mad!

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All this and more at http://felsbestpageintheworld.com/wp/

It looks like I’m going to be putting in some overtime with my job down at the Idiot Slapping Service. (ISS) I recently received a call from some old woman wishing to speak to her daughter. Here’s a transcript of our conversation

Me: Hello?

Her: Who is this?

This puts me in a peculiar position because usually the caller asks for someone and the person who picks up the phone asks who it is.

Me: Fel.

Her: What are you doing in my daughter’s house?

I know she’s not my grandmother because one is dead and the other doesn’t speak English

Me: Uh, I live here.

Her: Are you breaking into my daughter’s house?

Yeah, lady. I broke into your daughter’s and was in the middle of robbing it (It’s because I’m black) but the phone rang so I picked it up because I’m a dipstick.

Me: This is my house. Who’s your daughter?

Her: [Smith} <-name changed to protect identity

Me: Oh I know that person. This is ###=2283. You’re looking for ###-2282.

Her: Yeah, that’s the number, so what are you doing in their house?

Me: No, you’re misunderstanding me. This is 2283; you’re looking for 2282.

Her: That’s the number I dialed, ###-2282.

Me: No, you dialed 2283.

Her: Don’t lie to me! (It’s my blackness at work) I know what I dialed. Now let me talk to my daughter or I’m calling the police!

Me: Listen lady! You dialed 2283! Stop making this complicated, just hang up the phone and call your daughter!

Her: I’m going to call my daughter again and if you pick up I’m calling the police.

Me: You do that.

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