Friday, November 27, 2009
The Jerk-ob
Jacob Clavano. The Jerk-ob. That annoying son of a bitch. Ever since he came to town everything’s been all wrong. He roams around all alone by himself kicking stuff around. I asked him to hang out with us one time ‘cause we thought it was the good thing to do. And he raised a finger. Fuck. The fucking finger! He doesn’t have friends around here. That’s because he’s demanding, critical, and he never listens. He thinks that he’s the best of us all. I’ll tell you what I think about him. I think he’s a damned fool. I see how he treats his younger brothers. They’re like inmates in their own home. I bet his mom regrets ever giving birth to him. For 21 years he’s been nothing but bull crap. But he thinks we’re shit. I pity the 44 year old woman. She must have lost all her hair by now. He likes big roles and he won’t take no for his orders. The male prima donna. I heard he had a bike accident when he was younger and he scraped his chin over the rough wall and he bled. Too bad he didn’t lose all of them, saves us the trouble. Unfortunately, he’s still here. Fuck the man. Sometimes I see him kicking cats. Oh, he hates cats. He strangled poor old Dorothy’s little cat. He raised her a finger, too. That son of a bitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. When he’s not ruining someone else’s lives, he sits on a corner and he writes. He writes a lot. A lot of bad stuff. There was a time when he left his notebook in school and my buddies and I took a peek. He wrote all those adje – adjecti… whatever fuck about us. He never goes anywhere. He doesn’t like going anywhere else but his damned house where I’m sure he beats up his brothers. Poor kids. Oh, yeah, he dresses differently, too. He wears all those crap. He doesn’t like to wear normal clothes, see. He’s gay, dude, I’m telling you, he’s a fucking faggot! One time I heard this poor guy was beaten up when he and Jacob swam and he beat Jacob because he couldn’t swim fast. Poor guy had a huge black eye. Well, what more can I say about the jerk? He’s an egomaniac. He likes keeping things in order. See, his definition of order isn’t really my type. Damn. He’s the kind of guy who takes pleasure in making people suffer. It’s his passion to inflict pain all the fucking time. Well, I read in a book once that we reap what we sew… sow… whatever. He certainly sewed bad stuff on us, normal people. He’ll get what he deserves pretty soon. He doesn’t seem to change. All those books he read must have no effect on his fucking brain. Did I mention he tore a Paulo Coelho book. He fucking tore a good book! I don’t read, but I think it’s good. Is it? Anyway, he explores the fucking galaxy with all those sci-fi rentals he has. Strange, isn’t it? A jerk watching sci-fi. Now, that’s just gay. He turns the volume up and he fucking wakes my mom up at night! My mom and his poor old mom had a talk once and it looks like nothing happened. Jerk-ob is still a fucking bastard. He’s against anything organized. He hates the church, he hates our school, he hates the union. Fuck. He hates everything! That’s his way of living his life to its lowest. Damn! We’re going to beat him up soon. Or, to save us the trouble, I hope he fucking leaves.
Labels:
creative writing,
fiction,
school
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