On Extracurriculars
Extracurriculars are brain-bears, swiping hogmats of time for kids, sucking razors of relaxation. Don't waste your time with sports, clubs, signing parties, any of that jazzspad. Keep your knees away, just dig right into the depths of history: find out what happened, and you'll know brainal delight. Most kids get over-socialized, become turpid weiners, nothing but stiff mass market baseball caps. You just gotta chill out, and focus on doing something meaningful and loving.
Slapping balls in velcro suits and cuddling with other sweaty guys is just such a pesticide-pushing wet stocking—why not build the currencies, printers, tools, art, performers, music, or food of the future?
Why look back, sad bag, at that tattered gray 20th century photograph, of the murky face with the hangjaw and squeished nosehole?
Grab some swab, bucko—melt into this scantily emerging terrestrial interconsciousness culled cucumber sausage.
