Books are long. Especially ones without pictures. Just giant text walls. Yeah sure, they help you learn things and whatnot, but by raising myself on the internet I developed a short attention span to things that aren't flashy video games or stupidly humored YouTube videos. I miss the times as a kid when I was completely content sitting outside petting my great grandparents' farm cats for hours, or running around beating the hell out of trees with miscellaneous rusted iron objects I found stashed away on an old trailer bed outside (they should have been discarded instead of salvaged from that time, decades ago, that the farm shed burned down and Grampa still thought it was a good idea to keep everything that was in the shed even though it was mostly trash at that point. I think everyone who was alive during the Great Depression is a natural-born hoarder), training myself to be the greatest warrior in the world. That was my goal as a kid. Growing up watching shows like Dragonball Z, Tenchi Muyo!, Powerpuff Girls, Samurai Jack... (you get the idea) I began to admire their abilities, their stamina, their "coolness." Being able to kick ass and defend yourself defined "coolness" when I was a kid. Masters of martial arts were the shit and a half to a kid like me, so I joined Tae Kwon Do. Or however you spell it. I think that's right, though. Tae Kwon Do was fun for me. I got to kick giant stuffed practicing things, punch mid-air all flashy and stuff, and watch professional martial artists combat right before my eyes. I made it all the way to getting a yellow stripe on my belt (that was the epic first advancement. They took yellow electrical tape and wrapped it around a little part of the noobie white belt to make you feel awesome until you realize you're still not even above actual yellow belts), but for some reason decided to quit. I don't in particular remember why, but my mother told me it's because I complained about it all the time and eventually I came to the conclusion that my amazing hidden talents were better utilized elsewhere (elsewhere being my Gameboy). Later I found out that the instructor felt I was the best in the class, and couldn't wait for my return. What a fool I was! But I suppose I was feeling unappreciated (at least I think I felt unappreciated. I don't know, it was like ten years ago, back off), bored with the basic moves I was spoonfed alongside all of the kids who were only there because their parents were paranoid from watching too many Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episodes where kids get kidnapped right out of playgrounds and could've survived "if only they new some form of self defense." Such as martial arts, or how to hold a can of mace. Not that mace should be given to children. You know how kids are.
Example Girl 1: "That boy stole my candy!"
Example Teacher 1: "Well what do you do about it then?"
Example Girl 1: "MACE THAT MOTHERF-CKER" *As she proceeds to pull a can of mace out of her My Little Pony lunchbox and spray the shit out of the kid who stole her candy*
That wouldn't go over well in classrooms. Then again, I don't know why that girl would be eating candy for lunch. Unless she's a huge brat and has some of those push-over parents who bend to any will of their child just so they stop screaming in the middle of the grocery store because they can't have a package of f-cking Pop Rocks or whatever candy children obsess over these days. Probably Miley Cyrus bubble gum or something awful like that. That girl should be eating some carrots or another horrible-tasting health food. Then the boy never would've taken her food and he never would have been maced. Problem solved. The moral of the story is that children should be forced to eat healthier. There are too many fat twelve year olds eating nothing but nachos and playing online games for half of the day, wasting away their life trolling on twenty-somethings about how they "banged their girlfriend (or mom) last night" but then proceed to tell them they're "a total homo" and other contradictory things of that nature. I think that's a good place to stop for the night. Sayonara.
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