Falsies.

Khari Johnson February 23, 2009
Mrs. Gamzon’s Class Holden Caulfield Assignment

There's this guy Gerald, really stupid, a big moron and phony as hell, who all the teachers like. It just makes me so goddam angry how he goes up to a teacher and shakes their hand, and he gets 'em all buttered up and all, makes good friends with them, and then fails everything, but still manages to pull a B+ out of his ass! I hate to see lousy guys like that. I really do. But the other day, I was just horsing around, trying not to get bored, playing with a stupid drop down ironing board in our room, and it fell right on his crumby head! It killed me. I was rolling on the floor for four hundred hours.
Anyway, when I was walking home yesterday there was this piece of bacon on the floor. What a stupid thing to do. Why would you put a goddam piece of bacon on the floor, anyway? I didn't get it; it was a stupid thing to do. I mean, were they waiting for some damn moron homeless guy to come along and pick it up and say thank you? Hell, if that happened, it'd probably be the same day I got a goddam Cadillac.
So I do track at my school, which is pretty stupid because I have no wind at all. Track team was crumby though, all the guys were morons. They were all rich and all, so they always acted like they owned running or something, but none of them could run if their goddam lives depended on it. I mean, if I tried, I could probably run faster than all of them, but I have no wind at all. And I don't really care in the first place. I didn't win anything or anything, but my mom was still pretty proud of me for joining a team and stuff. That's something I hate, it is, when people are proud of you because you actually did something. It's like they think you couldn't do anything in the first place or something. Like they're reassured that I'm capable of living or something. Annoys the hell out of me. It really does.
Anyway, I have this coach, Mr. Brunderslard, who is a really classy guy. He's got a good sense of humor, too. There was this one time when I was horsing around with some basketballs, trying not to get bored, and I put them in my shirt and said, "Like my falsies, boys?" It killed me. I looked at Mr. Brunderslard and he was rolling on the floor for about twenty minutes before he told me to take the basketballs out of my shirt. I didn't mind since he had a good sense of humor and all.