Bad Writing Part One (2013)

The Fucking River

            So I was like checking out da window, lookin for like some fine ass bitches, some big booty hos yaknowhaddImean?  And my eyes fell down upon an empty playing field.  Can’t a guy get some ladies in the game?

            So there was a fuckin river.  A brown-looking river.  It was moving or flowing like WuTang Clan, but it wasn’t as in yo face nahImean?  Maybe like a slower WuTang song.  Like CREAM. CASH RULES EVERYTHING AROUND ME CREAM GET THE MONEY DOLLA DOLLA BILLS YALL! 

But this fuckin river – like the Red Cedar River, I don’t know, I really don’t give a fuck because it’s just a fuckin river.  I’m no duck.  I’m not a fish.  I’m not Thoreau, so why should I care about a river?  Environmentalists care about rivers but they care about everything, which is alright cuz we need people like that, but me, I aint into caring about everything.  I just want my piece of the pie.  I want CREAM and fine ass ladies and nuclear bombs to drop on my haters.

            Fuck the river. Peace I’m out!

Watch the my classmates and I read our pieces out loud.