white person: *eats chicken tikka masala once* i justâŠ. i feel so connected⊠to indian culture âŠ. Iâm learning to speak islamâŠ. check out my third eyeâŠ.. chakra
Every time I see this. Every damn time. Iâm immediately sucked back into my fuckin. Fuckin English lit class with Mr. Fuckass McShit. Mr. âHit the gong to begin classâ, âNamaste, Childrenâ, âI wanna go backpacking in India to find my spiritual awakening and also my left burkinstock that I lost during a cedar sauna drum circleâ ass bastard. âDo you want to share your poetry with the class to get in touch with your emotionsâ ass fucker. Mr. âHereâs a photograph of a tribal shaman, describe him using nature wordsâ asshole. Pretentious-ass, condescending motherfucker. âDo you want to tell us about your saddest memory?â âI dunno, sir. Are you giving me an option?â âNo.â âThen why are you askingâ Every goddamn day. Fuck. âYou seem tense.â Oh, I seem tense? I seem tense. Well fuck, Professor Pillsbury, maybe I âseem tenseâ because I walk into a room on five hours of sleep to the sound of a goddamn brass gong drilling through my brain and your seven-foot-nine, socks-and-sandals-wearing, patchouli-smelling ass immediately gravitates in my direction with some shit like âa treeâŠâŠâŠ Is a Poemâ and I gotta sit here and politely tell you that No Iâm Not Comfortable Telling The Class About A Time I Was Emotionally Vulnerable With A Loved One using words that sound like the way the color yellow smells. Maybe I donât wanna sit in a circle and hold hands with Brittney from Computer Sciences to âalign our aurasâ or some shit. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. I swear to God, if I wanted to sing âkumbayaâ with a smelly old guy with gross facial hair who writes bad porn on the side, Iâd go out to the parking lot and share a Hookah with Crazy Dan, the disgraced electrician. What, I donât wanna do an interpretive dance to represent the spiritual experience of eating Quinoa in a room full of ambivalent preteens and suddenly Iâm the âtroubled youthâ you need to Robin Williams âO Captain My Captainâ your way into having a Paternal Bonding Moment powerful enough to Expand My Impressionable Young Mind and Turn My Life Around, you goddamn saint, you? Jesus Fucking Christ. You insufferable jackass. Youâre not âEnlightenedâ, you rolled out of bed and ate half a pot brownie, wrote a sad song about a leaf, and strolled into class to ramble about your Spirit Animal for six hours straight before calling it a day. Holy Jesus goddamned Christ. Fucking Balls, sir. Holy Fucking Balls
Okay but I wanna know what Crazy Dan did to become a disgraced electrician
What a goddamn ride.
