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Creative Essay March 13, 2009

Posted by Zack in Everything Else.
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This is a paper that I wrote for class.  Seriously, it’s not a joke.  I wrote this for a class (Creative Non-Fiction) and really liked it.  I got pretty good feedback from class so I decided to post it here.   Enjoy.


JUST STOP READING NOW!

LAZILY WRITTEN BY:  Zack Hightower

This is about to be the single greatest essay you have ever read.  After two sentences your pelvic region will become moist from arousal (told you).  You will never read another essay the same again.  Ever.

I smiled at the beautiful woman that just talked to me. We began drinking heavily.  After countless drinks and uninterrupted conversation, she told me how much she loves the song that was playing in the background.  I nodded drunkenly, dreading what was coming.  She, putting her hand on my leg, asked me to dance.  Even drunk, I knew this was a horrible idea.  I can’t dance.  I really, REALLY can’t dance.  When I try, I look like I’m having a seizure while a ferret tries to escape from my pants.
Whoa whoa whoa… a ferret trying to escape from my pants?  That’s a fucking horrible line.  I’m gonna back that up and redo it.

Okay, here’s the deal.  I was going to redo it but honestly I got nothing.   Seriously, I have absolutely nothing.  That’s about all the fucking material I have (fucking material not fucking material.  I always have problems with that word).  Jesus, did I even spell check the damn thing?  From here I can easily spot three things wrong with the fucking paragraph.  Oh man… how many times have I used the work “fuck” or any variation on it?  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five and the instance where I said “fuck” as something to look for makes seven.

Eight.

But this is bad.  I’m writing myself into a corner again.  All right.  Just think of something else and maybe it’ll come to you.

A dancing pickle with top hat and cane.  Wow… okay.  That’s not it.

OH SHIT!  I got it!  Here goes.  You know why I hate Heroes?  It’s full of characters that you can’t like.  All you want to see is the heroes getting together to unite against one pack of super villains and you don’t get…

This is boring.  I bored myself to fucking boredom (nine).  Jesus, am I passionate about anything?  The answer is definitely yes but for some god-awful reason I have nothing to say about those things.  I love movies.  Who gives a rat’s ass.  Wait, is that a question or a statement?  I mean technically I’m sure it’s a question because it begins in the word “who” but I can’t for the life of me see it as a question.  Maybe it’s rhetorical.  Though, I’m sure that someone in the history of mankind has been like, “yeah, I give a rat’s ass.”
But that’s just it isn’t it?  I don’t really give a rat’s ass and don’t really have a story or anything to tell.  Shit.

Okay.  I have to come up with something very fucking (ten) fast.  This was due like a week ago.  Alright.  Let’s think about this.
… you know what?  Fuck it.  Just fuck this paper, fuck this writing.  Fuck everything about this fucking piece of shit goddamn cunt of a fucking paper. I’m pissed, I’m really fucking pissed.
You know what pisses me the fuck off?  Bad comic book adaptations.  Indiana Jones and The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull.  Math. Rolly Pollys.  Singing and dancing cowboys.  PCs.  Heroes.  Diet/Caffeine free Mountain Dew.  Drama.  Ice.  The Godfather.  Joey Fatone.  Dancing.  The Jonas Brothers.  The lack of Looney Tunes on TV.  Operas.  Stupid bitches.  People obsessed with certain religions (Scientology?! Fucking really?!)  Alf.  Mean cats.  The show Cats.  Anything about fucking cats (fucking cats, not fucking cats.  Seriously, I haven’t a clue how to use that word correctly).  Brick.  Chain mail.  Cuba Gooding Jr.  Whistling.  Bad comedies.  Bad dramas.  Bad sex.  Windows.  Rain.  Romantic comedies.  Anything written by Paul WS Anderson.  Paul WS Anderson.  Gossip Girls.  90210.  Accordions.  Family Guy.  Oversized sunglasses.  Kroger.  Wal-Mart.  Stalagmites.  Any word I can’t spell.  Sillohettes.  Castanets.  Razors.  Tom & Jerry.  Red Kool-Aid.  Pole-dancing midgets….

Whew.  I feel much better.  Now my mind is blank.  Time to end this paper.

*Zack stops typing and walks away from the computer.  He stands solemnly at the window, gazing at the world.   Thinking of his life in front of him, he smiles widely.  There are good things coming his way, he thinks.  He stops what he’s doing and wonders why he thinks in 3rd person.  Shaking this off he goes back to the computer and types one last paragraph.*

I’m emailing this to [THE PROFESSOR].  Fuck greater purpose.  Why does everything have to have a greater fucking purpose?  Why can’t things just… be?  This paper doesn’t have to be about anything.  Seinfeld was about nothing and it was fantastic.  Not that I’m comparing this shit rag to Seinfeld, but really… Why does there have to be a greater purpose?  Can’t something just exist to entertain?  The basis of all writing, theatre, film, and TV is entertainment.  When did it get into a time where we have to just make a point?

Fuck it, I got nothing.*

*Twenty-Six.

PS- I’m not even gonna reread this piece of shit.

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Comments»

1. Eric - March 13, 2009

Well said 🙂

2. katie - March 14, 2009

wow…that was ….interesting…
hum…..to never dance on a pole and to but you more Looney Tunes!

3. Kevin - March 16, 2009

The Godfather pisses you off?


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