Last night I was standing in my kitchen ironing like a ceazy person. My jeans were sharp, the crease would have taken your head right off, the shirt was almost two dimensional, I had ironed it so damn well. I was fucking freak out though. "This exam is going to kick my fucking my ass, it's going to be beat me like a bitch and come back for more. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck" I continued to iron like a crazy man, running the iron along the leg of my jeans like the iron was a U.S. bomber giving some fucking shock and awe to the Iraqis. "Take this Ken, you magnificently quiffed son of a fucker!" I screamed. My mind was under constant shelling from the thoughts of how unmerciful the exam was going to be and how incredibly gloriously I was going to fail it. This failure would be one for the ages. Bonfire of the Vanities bad. Then my mother entered the room. My eyes darted up from my flat jeans with the speed of ten olympic pole vaulters. "What up mother?" I shouted at her. "How are you feeling about tomo....."she started. "Fail, going to fail. I am fucked. Majotly fucked. I am going to become a refuse technician. Yes refuse. Oh yeah!" I replied before she could finish her predictable question. "Now just relax, lets think about this clearly. How much do you need to get from each question to pass?", she lovingly asked. My platinum lined mind sprang into action, many minutes later I had calculated that I needed to get 8 marks from each question to pass. "And are you going to get at least 8 marks from each question? she went on. "YES BITCH!" I replied "unless he sets a really hard exam and starts to ask......." She cut me off, "Shut up you motherfucker! Calm down you will get 8 marks, I didnt raise no fool." I felt reassured, more in the fact that I could likely get at least 8 marks from each question as opposed to her raising no fool. The jury is still out on that one. I went to bed less worried and anxious, I tired myself out by jumping around kicking the air and punching the wall, then reenacting scenes from Lord of the Rings using my sword, wardrobe, face, ankle and floor as props.
I was outside after the exam wondering what that whistling noise I heard during the exam was. Suddenly the door to the exam hall exploded outward. I instinctively dove for cover, fearing the Gods of marketing had come to eat my brain. But it was Rob, he was standing in the door way, a shroud of dust partially cloaked him from sight. As the shroud cleared I could see he was unclenching an out-streched fist, he had punch-exploded yet another door. 7 babes were sprawled across him, fondling and carressing him. Their sweet nothings wafted towards me on the breeze. I was mildly jealous untill I realised there was 37 naked babes lined up for me, I told them to get dressed. It was raining. Suddenly a roar of laughter rang throughout the college followed by "I am the Rob, all will tremble. YES!!" Rob approached me.
He was flanked by the Gene, whose face was a picture of solid confidence. "3, number 3, what the fuck did you answer for number 3?", Rob demanded of me. "Ahhhhh, hmmmmm, eeeehhhhh, what was number 3?" "SWEETS! FUCKING SWEETS YOU ASSHOLE! What is your view of sweets?", Rob bellowed in reply to my question. "Oh yeah that question. I said sweets kick ass, I said they kick so much ass that they fucking kick ass"
Rob was pleased with my answer. "YES", he raised his hand for a high five, I raised my hand and they met in a thunderous roar, lightning and microscopic nuclear explosions emanated from the contact, the non-Rob, Gene and Ian people in our vicinity were immediately exploded into nothing. Rob continued to boom "Rape, I raped it! I raped it so hard it was blowing its pityfull rape whistle. "YES"