There was a point in my life when I badly wanted to become like a
lecturer or something. You have all these kids’ futures in your hands and you
could decide to fuck ‘em up and not lose any sleep over it. All my lecturers
have come to accept that I can never hand in shit on time. Most of my course
work is handed in at the end of the semester, one hour before the end of the
final exam. Because, chances are that I will bolt from that exam room an hour
and a half before the recommended time since I don’t have dick to write. If I
were my lecturer, I would fuck me up
real bad. I mean, who the fuck does this kid think he is? So, for about three
days I had fantasies of showing up to lecture with a cigarette and an apple just
like in that movie. Oh, actually that movie hasn’t been shot yet, because the
script is still on my desktop.
My dad is a lecturer, so is my sister so I got the feeling it runs in
the blood. I wanted to be a part of the making of the future gurus and CEOs and
whatevers…but that was until I spent time with this Primary Four kid and
realized that lecturing or teaching is the most messed up profession in the
history of ever. I woke up today morning and he was just standing there by the
bedside, staring at me. I was so fucking freaked out! Do you know how scary
that is? It is like…waking up and there’s someone at your bedside staring at
you.
Me: Whoa! Kid what the f--? What are you doing?!
Him: Nothing, I’m just standing here, looking at you.
Me: Well, don’t you have something to do? Go play Excalibur or
something…
Him: I hate Excalibur
Me: That’s not my problem, GO AWAY!
Him: That’s not polite.
Me: What the --?! Look, just leave me alone!
Him: Ask me politely.
Me: Go the fuck away kid.
Him: They don’t speak to kids like that.
Me: Okay, please take your little ass away so I can get some sleep.
Him: You’re always sleeping, don’t you get bored?
Me: Are you bored?
Him: Yes.
Me: Do you know what a modem is?
Him: Of course, I’m not 7!
Me: : Okay, I lost my modem. Could you look for it?
Him: What do you do on the internet?
Me: I write.
Him: You write about what?
Me: I write stories.
Him: How come you never write me any stories?
Me: Because I use big words and you are just a kid.
Him: Can’t you just use ‘Once upon a time’?
Me: Nope, that’s cliché.
Him: What?!
Me: The big words I was talking about.
Him: So, how do you start your stories?
Me: Um, like ‘Whats up? Blab la blab..”
Him: That’s facebook. You don’t write stories, you just facebook.
Me: Yes, I do facebook. Now go away!
Him: But I’m still bored!
Me: Look at your little brother, he’s not bored.
Him: He’s playing with his weenie!
Me: Exactly.
Him: You want me to play with his weenie?
Me: Jesus, no! That’s your brother, play with your own.
* * *
Honestly, if I’m not the only choice for best uncle of the year award
then no one is. On a slightly more serious note, I would like to thank all of
you for reading and sharing these Kukuss posts. My blog traffic has increased
like threefold and it’s all because of you. Keep sharing! I was told that there’s
a babe who shares almost all my posts. She just sent me a “plus one” on Google
+. +clare canary Thanks love, you are such a sweetheart.
Adios!