I'm just a Whore, and Fatheree is my Pimp

Life on the streets isn't for the weak of heart.

Of course, by "life on the streets," im talking about my career, if you'll call it that, in the UIL circuit.

So as the few people who read this may or may not know, i participate in the "Ready Writing" event at the local UIL meets. What is Ready Writing you might ask? Well, like most things literature related, it's essentially a bullshit contest. You are given two quotes, from people who have proven themselves to be what i like to call Cadillacs of men, providing the human race with almost unmatchable amounts of knowledge (i.e. Maya Angelou. Not Joking, wish I was.)

Anyways, you get these two quotes, read them, comprehend them, draw a silly picture on your pre-writing sheet, and get into the bullshitting, using the quote as a "springboard" for your essay.

So last year i went to the UIL district competition, and apparently kicked ass. Moved on to regionals and everything. Why does this matter? It doesn't, really. As far as im concerned, anything that gets me out of a day of school is worth wasting a Saturday for.

But this year, i've found that the judges just... don't appreciate my writing.

I wouldn't really care about not placing lately, if it wasn't for being constantly told about it. To be completely honest, if I don't place in a UIL competition, it doesn't really affect me. At least i got to check out the shitty high school, and laugh about the kinds of signs you will find on the walls there. (For example, one of the projects involved students writing 9 of their "loves" in little boxes on the wall. One student's response had the following items: WEED, MY HOMEGURLZ, and CRACK. And this is displayed on the WALL. Priceless.)

But lately, i've had people coming up to me, ASKING me why i haven't placed lately. Honestly, what do you expect me to say? I have NO IDEA why i didn't place. The judge didn't like my handwriting? I accidently wrote in Spanish? My essay sucked? Who the hell knows? Somebody actually came up to me, while i was sitting peacefully in the hallway, and asked "how come you can't win anything anymore?"

Well isn't that the fucking question of the year.

It's for this reason that i honestly feel like a failed hooker, except without the illicit drugs (although maybe in this category, it would actually help. At least to get the ideas flowing). But seriously, I feel like a whore who hasn't laid enough lonely men to fill her quota, and now "Big Daddy" is all over my ass,trying to squeeze every dollar out of me.

Well you guys, all I can say is i'm not really doing anything different. I kind of feel like writing my essay in the style of this blog next time. Like go all out, yelling FUCK and SHIT and placing spaces after every 2 sentences. Would i be disqualified? Maybe. But it would be kinda fun.

Whatever. If they don't like my writing, at least i know the people who read this blog do. For a price, that is. These rocks aren't going to pay for themselves, after all.