You know that kid that sits next to you in class that smells a little funny and chews on the pencil you always give him to borrow? You probably wouldn’t recognize me because you do everything in your power not to look at me while I’m sticking boogers under the desk or shooting spitballs at the whiteboard. I know I should probably grow up, but being the immature freshman that I am, I most likely won’t. I know I have no chance of ever scoring chicks, so here I will sit and continue to perfect my burping of the alphabet… in Spanish.
If my terrible hygiene bothers you, I’m sorry. I know that I should shower every day because of my overactive sweat glands and dreadful body odor, but because I have such disgusting daily habits, I’m leaving it to twice a week… maybe three times. (That’s not gel in my hair, by the way.)
If you ever catch me staring at you, that’s probably because I secretly wish I could be cool like you, but due to my naturally unattractive features, I will continue to watch you in an extremely creepy way that you’ll be telling your friends about later. Sure, I could use a haircut and maybe my eyebrows need a good mow, and I could probably lose a few pounds, and wash my clothes and hands once in a while, but then you would have no reason to dread coming to class. If I were decently dressed and somewhat cleaned up, that would defeat the purpose of being the number one nuisance in your life.
I’m here to make your stomach uneasy and give you something to talk about with our fellow classmates when my back is turned. I’m here to do all the things you hate, like making sick beats on the desk with my pencils, or promoting public flatulence without shame, or blurting rude comments about everyone.
I’m fully aware of how much everyone hates me and I know that I won’t start to mature until at least Senior year, but until them I’m always going to be that guy that you’ve come to know and hate.