[FONT="]Well, here it is. I just wrote it today in English class. I liked it, the professor liked it so here it is. Forgive me for the format but thats the way it's supposed to look.. unless if the text appears too large.
Oh and a mild language alert.
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Fish: I hate fish. They eat worms, bugs, or others of their own kin. And what they live in! I’m not just talking about the polluted water – I’m talking about how they live in their own shit! Those things are high on my list for fish, but, there is one thing that bothers me the most. Their eyes. Their eyes are always staring – even when they sleep – always staring , looking at me… so you can imagine my distain at the sight of my meal. Grilled fish. As we all know the only thing better than fish is burnt fish. Even in death this fish was staring at me… and I found myself staring back. As I stared at it, and as it stared back at me with its hallowed out eyes I began to sympathize with it. It wouldn’t want me to eat it and sure as hell I don’t want to eat it either. I’d rather bury it in the yard under the tree full of blossoms… but of course it’s not spring, it’s fall and the ground is too hard to dig up. But then Stacy piped in telling me that she put a lot of effort into this corpse and that I should eat it. I threw it out the window when she went away. That’s when I noticed the white phone right beside the picture of me and Stacy in front of the big tree in spring... back when I cared a little more. About the phone: It’s nice, slender, and it works unlike its predecessor. I got it the day before and as I was about to throw away that awful red one when Stacy said we should keep it for some reason that I cannot comprehend. So just like the fish I waited until she went away and I threw it out the window. So I went outside to get rid of the evidence of my crimes. When I got to the scene of my crime there was the fish right beside the receiver of the phone. It was almost as if it was trying to call for some back up. Unluckily for it the only person who is even near is that idiot Roger and sure enough I could see that jackass was out caring for his horse. So, to decide on how I was going to dispose of these two I let up a cigarette with my trusty silver lighter. I looked at the writing Stacy scratched into my lighter. What it says is “Smoking is bad” along with a ridiculous happy face. As I was looking at it taking glee with my lack of concern I felt a strange sensation. I felt it right in the back of my left shoulder. I put my hand there and I felt something… displeasing to put it as politely as I damn well can. So when I unbuttoned my shirt and took a look sure enough it was exactly what I thought it was. It was bird shit. I turned around and as to my expectation there was my mortal nemesis. For those of you who aren’t privy to know this: that bird would dump its wonderful cargo on my car every day. I hated the car but I hated that bird more for violating my property – I’d rather violate it myself personally. The car was an old Volkswagen with the stupidest paint job I ever saw. On it is a horse coming out of the center of an atom. I hate it, Stacy loves it. Since she loves horses, she is the reason why I have to live beside Roger and keep that awful paintjob on that car. The car used to belong to my father and he knew I hated it, so, he put it in his will for me. I wanted to change the paint job or just sell the damn thing but Stacy wouldn’t let me. Because of that I had to drive the thing around every day – bird shit and all. As I looked at the car with contempt I heard that bird. I looked over and there he was in the tree calling out as if it was mocking me. So I took a deep breath and picked up the red phone and chucked it at the accursed thing. I missed but the bird was spooked… so spooked it flew to my car just as I was picking up the fish for another throw. As to mock me even more it turned its back on me and let another one of it’s blessings on my car. So, acting in the spur of the moment I charged the bird with fish in hand cursing the entire way. I took a couple of swings with the fish and missed smacking the hood of the car a couple times. The bird flew away and I basically gave up going after it. I let out a big breath only to notice Stacy and Roger staring at me from both sides. There I was: No shirt, cigarette in mouth, holding a grilled fish. They continued to stare at me and I looked back and forth taking turns looking at either all the while coming up with a blank as to how I should explain. All I could do was look at the fish hoping it could come up with an explanation. It didn’t help me at all… and that’s another reason why I hate fish.
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I think it's funnier when I read it aloud though
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