AND NOW...

the real story...

BUT FIRST...

yesterday i kicked out of class...yes folks i pay 18 grand a year to get ejected from English 102...apparently professors don't like to be told what needs to be said

and that is all i'm going to say about that...

but it was so empowering, i flash back to the third grade, when i decided that my elbow would be sprained for the week...every morning on the bus, i'd sneak to the very last seat, pull out my ace bandage, and carefully wrap my arm...and everybody bought it too...except for Ms. Amadeo, my Italian teacher...the bitch caught me (catch this) writing a skit under my desk...when desk's still had holes to put shit in...but they never told my mother, because most of the time i was a good kid...

i still am a good kid...

i just don't like people who don't have doctorate's, that i'm paying to teach me...tell me that i'm not a good writer...either everyone else is whacked and you're speaking the truth, or I'm a god damn genius...and obviously you're not John Lennon, which makes me right and you cold diarreah...

but now i'm taking certain precautions, you know, because i'm not tryin to hurt nobody/you only live once they told me/you can't be mad at me/i can only be me me me....same ol B...

like i didn't go to acting today, because i know how much i can't stand most of them, and i really didn't want to say something to someone who really didn't deserve it

my life is very much like Macbeth's at this point...ironically...i'm struggling between reality and death...or was that Hamlet...maybe i shouldn't have gone off on my English teacher...

fuck Shakespeare...i'm gonna be like the Liam Gallagher of poets...

i'm gonna go find Lucille Clifton and bitch her out...wouldn't it be funny if she grew up wealthy, and like that Mother Theresa wench, and decided that she wasn't getting enough attention as the poor lil middle-child rich girl, so went off to sell-out and...feed the poor...

but enough squabbling...and more KITH...