Sunday, October 30, 2016

African Journal: Part 5

I had skipped this page while posting my journal on my blog because the humor may be somewhat inappropriate and perhaps immature. I was eighteen and scared of dying in a plane so chalk this one up to using humor (funny or not) as a defense mechanism. It is to the tune of, "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah (A Letter From Camp," which was in the movie Indian Summer that we had watched recently if I remember correctly.

Don't judge me...

Hello Mother
Hello Father
I am flying
and I'm going to crash now
but before I 
go down in flames
there are a couple things
you should know now

When I was in
the first grade 
I was very naughty
we were painting
we were singing
I made the teacher
swallow my pet froggy
she fell to the floor
and I gave her a wedgy
you never received
the school's phone call
I answered
And said 
you were doing something dirty

Dearest Mother
I love you so
When you find out
about the second
you will have 
a nervous breakdown
I reckon

It was the first day
we were in class
listening to Mr. Tootsy
My best friend, Pudgy
well, he farted
ever since then
the teacher's been 
a little (silly)

Well I must admit
I was pretty well-behaved 
in the third grade
except for the time
I gave the principal's
wife a hickey

Now comes the fourth
grade, Father
I think you'll kill me
At career day
you weren't there
I told them you...

In the fifth grade
that's a different story
nevermind the headlines
I never tried to kill her

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