further yoshi-ownage

If today was assigned a dollar amount, even K-Mart wouldn't lower itself to such standards. Yesterday, my parents received a notice from the school informing them that I had passed the limit of truancies as designated in the student handbook (a handbook that I sure as hell didn't take the time read), and that if I didn't appeal to my teachers and convince them to remove the truancies they had listed, I'd have to speak with the County Truancy Officer (damn, there must've been some kind of job shortage to create a position like that). The threat that I would be reported to the authorities burnt my mom's cookies, whereas I shrugged and didn't take the entire ordeal seriously. Thus, because my mom was so enraged, she insisted that I speak with my band teacher and my gym teachers, since it was they who claimed I had not attended class that day.

First off, I'd have to be in a wheelchair with a trail of drool making its way down my chin before it was even remotely possible for me to be late for gym, considering the locker room is less than twenty paces away from my previous class.

As for my band teacher, his wrath for me was probably stirred when he discovered that I was not only a freshman, but a percussionist as well. If, while performing a piece, we slip, he completely ignores us and doesn't correct our errors until the day before one of our scheduled concerts. Therefore, when we continually fail his lofty standards, he clutches his podium so tightly that you can see the veins in his hands pulsating with fury. Because if he fails to occupy is hands in gripping his podium, he'll whip a hardcover book off of the top of piano and chuck it at our heads so it creates a large, bleeding welt in its wake. In conclusion, my theory is that he marked me absent/truant five days in three months when I distinctly remember attending school because the day was already going downhill, so why not send a hapless student spiraling into the proverbial abyss of hell (because as Bryan and I have already previously discussed, hell is nowhere).

Nevertheless, I was as carefree as someone drunk and stoned simultaneously upon hearing the news that I was marked for having so many truancies, even though I attended the halls of learning. However, as my mom was picking me up from school, she explained that she had called the principal and what they had discussed, etc. And you know what? During the school day, I have to report to a lecture hall along with about forty other students, most likely crack-pushers who use their homework as zigzags, and watch a video about maintaining punctual habits. A video, out of all the godforsaken methods of teaching! How could you make a video about truancy? Show this yo-yo named Pedro smoke his brain to a puddle of goo (no racial slurs intended) and accidentally get caught in a drive-by shooting, all because he chose to ditch school that day? Or depict a turtleneck-wearing floozy named Tiffany bagging groceries at a run-down supermarket for the rest of her natural born life because her irresponsibility prevents her from achieving a successful career? Or maybe they'll take the more direct approach by illustrating methods of decapitating delinquents of education and impaling their heads on sticks.

Needless to say, the fact that I will be forced to possibly miss Japanese class in order to watch a homemade video taped in the 70s about the relationship between truancy and failure does not make me happy. Not at all.

To soothe my pain, I took a few online tests.

'Pretty?' Goddamnit, I didn't join Ripe Tomato's 'ripeandjuicy' ring to be degraded to something as elementary as pretty. I even changed my MSN screenname to 'Ripe-n-Juicy!' If that isn't devotion, I don't know what is.

Meanwhile, I took the liberty of slightly editing the results of the next quiz, simply because I can. I'm sneaky like that.

'You are... Yoshi, [who 0wNz j00]!

'You [kick fungi ass]. You showed up fashionably late with Super Mario World and have started launching your own career since then. In maybe 10-15 years, your popularity will rival Mario's. Not that you're competing with him. He's your bud. You're good at getting and keeping friends[, and don't worry, we laughed when we typed that because it's complete bullshit], and they value you for that. After all, who else would carry them on their back through ice, fire, and rain? Sometimes you think you're taken for granted, but you know that your friends have your back. [Because if they didn't, you'd dump them onto their asses with a ploop! and abandon them to go frolic among the cherry bushes with your ever-useful lengthy tongue.]'

Now that I have appropriately edited my results, you can take the above test by making with the clicky-click.