Who doesn’t love school? We all have a certain itch to learn. And if you don’t have an itch, you’ll probably catch something nasty at school. Problem solved.

Everybody is your guardian angel in high school. All of your peers keep up to date on what’s going on in your family and your social life and your relationships. It’s good to know people care. Every now and then, just to let you know they still care, they say something like “nobody likes you” Or “get a life.” They’re such kidders. And if there’s ever someone who doesn’t know you like they do, they’ll be sure to bring them up to speed.

Institutionalization. It’s the name of their game. The riot hose water slide. Society tastes best when it’s cold and funnel fed. We can wear only what they say we can wear. If we were to complain, argue, speak, or commit other acts of belligerence, they reserve and extend the right to make us hang out with them after school. Let me tell you, the superintendent of schools is a fun guy to hang out with. Furthermore, they put us on a strict schedule, tell us when to eat, when to go to the bathroom, when to sleep, which is never, and when we’re allowed to leave. Thank you, public school system. I’m ready for the time of my life in prison.

Plastic fork, fake burgers and cold fries. The meal of a champion. That is to say, the daily meal of a champion. And here at high school, we’re chock-full of champions. We’re not allowed to have white bread, because white bread’s for squares. In fact, there’s a lot we’re not allowed to have, because it’s gonna put too much sugar in our little bodies. So they replace the disgusting sodas with refreshing, nutritious Gatorade, and they always keep well-stocked on ice cream as a healthy alternative to lunch. Thank God we have Michelle Obama and other certified nutritionists to tell us how to take care of ourselves. And, the cuisine here at High School is exquisite. Why would I ever want to get a McDouble again? For just $2.50 I can get a fish fillet entrée slow-cooked under a heat lamp, or a delicious microwaved grilled cheese cooked al dente. Gotta’ love the sweet taste of preservatives and success!


In fact, I find it kind of hard to believe the sports teams don’t eat at school instead of McDonalds after a win. They deserve better. I mean, the sports teams are the most important part of the school, right? How could they be so mistreated as to eat off premises? Unthinkable. Our sports teams should be treated to a nice school dinner with their fellow students. Everyone will come if the sports players show up! If the physically superior couldn’t get instantly popular, what type of institution would we be a part of? Everybody idolizes the sports teams. I sure do. Not only do I thoroughly enjoy taking a second set of notes for someone who left school an hour early to run back and forth for the rest of the evening, but I will do my civic duty and gladly sacrifice my spot in an ivy league college because a C student can catch a ball.

I’ve sat in a classroom for seven hours a day for one hundred and eighty days for the past 12 years. That’s fifteen thousand, one hundred and twenty one hours of being invited to do such pleasantly entertaining work, such as evaluating square denominators of complex matrices, or writing twelve page long expositories on the symbolic connotation of Lord of the Flies. If I made minimum wage for going to school, I would have one hundred and nine thousand, six hundred and twenty dollars. But the chance to come in at 7 in the morning and listen to Mr. What’s-His-Face explain the conduction factor of a deionized sodium bicarbonate dissolved in a transmagnesiastic oxyquartizonaprinal isotope turboheated to evaporation and crystalised under ultraviolet wavelengths in a ultrathermospheric malaphasiocidic enzyme makes it all worth it.