been three weeks in the new course. It is horrible, as each new course. The best thing about it is the final ringing, which gives us the wings of freedom, let us leave the place. I have three weeks and when I think I still have eight months I slit my wrists with chalk on the board.
But the problem comes because it takes three weeks and already hated school, no. Comes because every time it rings the bell announcing that Madrid are 13.00 GMT, and I can go home is that my bag will not, and does not want because it has fallen for the hook that holds it all day. "Sure I think," the whole day together, for 4 hours ... the friction makes the honey. " But fuck me, because I can not go home immediately. Cost me almost half an hour each day that handles my Nike backpack off from that piece of inert metal (like my backpack) and we can go home.
way home Now I'm thinking how to end this ordeal that takes me 30 minutes of overtime in the school. I thought not to carry a backpack to class, but the publishing industry, the teachers and school equipment manufacturers have agreed to make this not feasible. With so much textbook, one per subject, unless you have workbook that becomes two, is an impossible burden to carry two human hands with a boy of 11 years.
I thought about changing backpack, take an old one that I have. I do not think that is the solution that I think my current backpack handles male and female, and that's why they want, and my old backpack is female, but of course ... as the topic of homosexuality and irascible is the society, it is very likely that this backpack also fall in love handles and I fall a divine punishment (not Christian) to promote homophobia.
I made a mess. I get home and think about telling my parents, but immediately dismiss this idea. It seems ridiculous:
- Dad, Mom, always late in coming home from school because my backpack is love .... (I think it gives even shame.)
So just me lentil dish that my mother has prepared. "They have iron, and that's good for education," says whenever I see the face of disgust. "The iron that I know is good for rails, for orthodontics and put it in the ass of chickens to eat potatoes every Sunday." I get to my room and I'm mulling over the issue of how fix the link so outrageous that they have started to open my bag and the handle of the hanger in my class.
As it seems unlikely one thing, what I do is think about facts that may give an explanation to this phenomenon. I think and look in the backpack straps in case you have gum stuck which is what makes it such a tightly from the perch. Discarded. There is no such gum. Maybe ... no, no. Discarded.
is clear. What you need is love between the fabric and the cold iron backpacker hold garments. And when I say this I turn on a light: "There is in love with my bag of perch and vice versa ... they are the materials which they want." EUREKA!
The next morning I get to school 5 minutes before, to speak with the concierge.
- Genaro "I say. "I have a love problem that I think you can fix-finish.
- Fuck me baby. Last year I've had enough trouble when teachers thought that he threw a pass at the beautiful, smiling, pert and promising girl of 1 primary ... - I stayed with her eyes dishes. And shaking his head to see if my brain out of that nasty image (not stand that girl) I told him I was not going out there. So I told him the story of the romance between my bag and the rack and after a moment's thought, Genaro started to break his ass. "Another that I thought" I thought.
- What do you think this is the IKEA? We can not go changing the furniture for good, there is no budget. If you had not asked for that dispenser of pornographic magazines last year, maybe something could be done, but no money. So I hope your backpack and perch are very happy and have many hanger-bags that certainly is a product that some entrepreneur has thought-
I was checked. He had believed the story. I took for a madman. But I had not solved the problem. And I was going to stay half an hour every day at school because of a passing and adolescents. So I took drastic measures. Daily
would leave home. I would head to college but did not think coming in, so I would have to fight with my backpack. And come home on time. I happy not to go to school. My parents for having me at home at the time. And humanity as well as nip in the bud what might have been a monster: a mochi-percha.
0 comments:
Post a Comment