My life suxorz.
God decided to make me one night out of shit from his trashcan during a long good-old fashioned clambake. I was born in an old, shitty hospital after having been deined access to a more modern hospital under construction that was being saved for "real emergencies" like ninety-year old hypochondriacs who come to the ER to have a $70 blood pressure check. I was a rather fat baby. When I popped out, I hit the ground so hard that a local seismograph registered a small earthquake. When the doctor saw me for the first time, he promptly slapped both my parents in the face so hard, their scars are visible today. At that years thanksgiving, I spent five minutes in the oven after having been mistaken for the large turkey my family had purchased.
Natch, in elementary school, I was never an ordinary child. I was short, fat, and ass-ugly. Today, at least I'm no longer short. Because I never fit through the school bus door, I was often greased up and layed sideways in front of the bus to be rolled all the way to school. At school, I never proved to be poular. Fortunately for me, I discovered I had the superpower of invisibility. This proved to be a significant impediment for finding friends. Kids ignored me, family ignored me, hell...I had to repeat first grade because the teacher never noticed me when taking roll in the morning.
Being the fat insignificant thing I was, when people actually did see me, I never was treated too well. Kids left me out of their games almost every day. The extent of my sports experience as a child was getting called over to fetch the ball out of old Mrs. Henderson's yard...the same old Mrs. Henderson who liked to throw mushy old tomatoes at kids who walked through her yard. I was also asked to be scorekeeper for certain games, but even then I would later find out that they set me up and would pick someone who was less of a nerd than I was to keep score, which proved to be a difficult task wherever I stood. Physical bullying was prevalent as well. A popular stunt for the little league players was to hit me with baseball bats. When I yelled for the teachers, they ran over and joined in. If I came across a bully in the hallway, I made their life easier by walking into the nearest locker and closing the door. About ten years ago, an ear condition resulting in long-term damage from frequent wet willies was named after me.
High school was no different. I was still bullied by the popular kids, but I grew used to it. A familiar sight was me walking nonchalantly down the hall as I recieved numerous punches from popular jocks that I built an immunity to. I tried to enter the dating scene but was often burned mercillesly. When girls gave me their phone numbers, it was usually "911" accompanied with a footnote telling me to call the ugly police. When I tried to lower my standards, I realized that even that old man who circled the school in his old Dodge van about three times a day didn't even want anything to do with me. At one point, every girl in the school filed a restraining order against me for asking so much, and I could no longer attend that school. I did have a girlfriend briefly in sophomore year, but she left me for the kid who spat in his hand to check for blood after he was done eating. When I sought therapy, I was just told to give up and was handed Internet printouts of ways to commit painless suicides. I grew even more depressed when I realized I couldn't even succeed at the suicides.
Now I'm in college. Some things never really change even when you get to college. When I drive by old Mrs. Henderson's house, her kids throw tomatoes at my car. The only thing that changes is you realize you suck at college math, and now you really do have no redeeming qualities that you thought you had. And everyone is getting laid but you.
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