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Things My Mother Brought Over
Page 1: Viking Life
We'll get the crappy stuff out of the
way first. Here is a history
report I wrote around the 5th grade or so. If I remember correctly,
my parents saw this report before I turned it in
and immediately made
me write another one. This glorious masterpiece sat alone and
unread in a box for over sixteen years, never to be appreciated:
Until now! I give you: Page one:
I noticed a few
things right away. First of all, I can't draw 90 degree angles. Now
how hard is it to line up your dairy to your lavatory? The dairy
must be parallel to your lavatory, and your lavatory should be
visible from your entrance.
I misspelled farmhouse. I'll let tat one slide.
Point to ponder: I
wonder if it's true if the farmhouses had one room where everyone
slept on wooden benches. How did anybody get it on viking-style with
everybody sleeping in the same room?
In the last paragraph of page one, I try to describe a picture in my history book. I thought
it was funny. I describe Viking clothes as "nerdy" while I
wore an Ocean Pacific shirt and a Michael Jackson jacket with corduroy
Okay, on to the
Here we see a literary version of pointing and
hooting like a monkey. This paragraph is not informative or
necessary. I am embarrassed.
Cliff's notes version: They traded for gold and
furs. As for the rest of the paragraph, I should've just STFU.
Okay, here's where
I turn into a total asshole. First, I constantly mix up my singulars
and plurals, then I begin writing in annoying 80's slang. At the
time, I must've seriously thought I was being funny. With the
writing skills of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle with Down's Sydrome,
I continue to bastardize the English language...
Smartass little punk. Back in my day, our
parents gave us discipline in the form of whippings. It wasn't child
abuse. It was a useful tool to keep us in line. Reading this report, I can honestly tell
you that I deserved every one of them.