140 lines
5.3 KiB
Plaintext
140 lines
5.3 KiB
Plaintext
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### ###
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### #### ### ### ### ####
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### ### ##### ### ###
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### ### ##### ### ###
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########## ### ### ##########
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### ###
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### ###
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### #######
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
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#### ## ## #### # # ## ## ####### #######
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
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## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ####### #######
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[ A Jolly Good Day In School ] [ By The GNN ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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A JOLLY GOOD DAY IN SCHOOL!
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by THE GNN/DC/uXu
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"quit my job
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cut my hair
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you know I cut my bonds
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because I don't care"
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This is a true story.
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"Well, Mr Svensson...this hasn't been a good year for you, eh?"
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My teacher is bold, ugly and boring. He is holding a paper containing
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the marks for every student in my class. My mark is rather low and I
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already know it due to his voice. It sounds...happy...all teachers
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sound happy when they can crush your ego to the bottom and feel better
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than you. Better...
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Bah! My teacher looks at me, waiting for an answer to his stupid question.
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What can I say? "Oh yeah, really fucked up!" or "He? I think I did
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pretty well?" or "I don't know. You tell me!"
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Lame answers all of them. I keep quiet. He looks disappointed.
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"Well...since you did so bad on your last test I have decided to...."
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He looks down on his paper. Unnecessary, since he already know what
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he will give me.
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"...give you...."
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He closes his eyes for a moment.
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"...1..."
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I did really expect to get "1" in math. I mean, I hate the subject and
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the teacher. I watch him. He looks at me, waiting for a reaction. I don't
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say anything. He looks rather angry and says:
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"You'll have to get better, otherwise I will have to give you 1 again!"
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HaVe To? Haha...It doesn't hurt him. I mean, he is the one who has failed.
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He knows that he won't get much action out of his life as a teacher in
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a lousy school in the middle of Sweden. In fact...THE ONLY fun he have
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is to give people low marks and crush their life. Then he can feel
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better, stronger...he is "smarter". A low mark to me may cause some
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problem later on, and that's wonderful. Then he knows that he is
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judged as a intelligent human being on the sick scale that todays older
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section has constructed.
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"Next one."
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He can't get me to say anything like "Please Sorry" so he decides to
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move on with the next victim. I turn around and walk to the door. I open
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it and step outside. The door is closed and I lean my back against it.
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Shit. Something must be done about this mark. It destroys all my other marks
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and I can see a future of further school...instead of finally getting a
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job somewhere and Do Something Else. But the fact that I am the one
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who will take over from his lost generation is a hard feeling. He will
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not let go of his "life" that easy. We, the youth, must be crushed
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and tame before they let us see their mistakes. So we won't complain and
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do it better. Then their lives would have been worthless.
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The truth hurts. And history repeats.
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I think. Then I open the door again and step inside. "You again?".
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I grab my gun from the back of my jeans and cock it behind my back.
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I speak: "You...are...The...looser..."
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The pedagogically voice inside him starts to barf.
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"well i know this is a hard mark but if you feel that its wrong you
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should start thinking about studying instead of other things like
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(life?)
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and understand that school is important to you yes it is you have to
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study to get somewhere in life get somewhere in life get somewhere in
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life get somewhere in life be someone be someone be someone become someone
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BECOME SOMEONE BECOME SOMETHING
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EARN MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY
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I show him my fist and say "Be quiet you senile old fart, please".
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He looks at me and starts again:
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"now listen my dear friend i must say that your behaviour is quite"
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I kill him. The shot from my Desert Eagle (now loaded with .44) goes
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trough his left eye, trough his brain and out on the other side.
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Blood, brain and all that is splashed all over the wall and ceiling.
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His body is thrown back, over a table and his hand grabs a shelf and
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drags it with him in the fall. He is still holding the paper. A stream
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of various fluids are dripping over it from his mouth.
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I step outside.
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///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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Call INFO ADDICT - Home of Underground eXperts United +46-###-####
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--- ONLY OPEN ON WEEKENDS FROM JAN 10 -> DEC 24 1992 ---
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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