Vocaubulary story

Hey, have you ever heard of the SWV Scandal? You haven’t? You know I created it right. Yes, yours truly created that little scandal all because Ms.Foreman was too stubborn to give me the proper the grade I deserved for the most awesome essay I ever written in my life. So, to set her straight, I set out to deliberately abase her reputation. Please, it wasn’t that hard. The woman is a harlot. Seriously, everyone knows it. Here, so you won’t get confused, let me start from the beginning-where it ALL went down.

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There I was, in the school hallway during my lunch period with my ‘F’ paper in hand that was slowly abating my high ‘A’ grade. It was the BEST essay I ever written in my life! “The harmful effects of dating thugs and associating with side-walk hookers.” It was well-written and full of enthusiasm that any person would fall to love. Hey, she said it could be a topic of our choice so, what better thing to write about than something you can relate to in real life. Anyway, in my opinion, it was the best paper I had ever produced. I never knew I could sit down and write about something so fun and interesting for six hours.
Now, when she passed back out papers earlier that day, I figured she would give me praise and love for such a piece of work that I would end up getting a gold star on the bulletin board. NO! Instead, she gives me an ‘F’ and writes these comments above in RED INK! IN BOLD LETTERS! Here is what it said:

“Ms. Williams, your essay is so abstruse; I could barely understand your concept. I suggest you search deeper inside yourself to find a more suitable topic that actually answers my prompt. This is no ‘Hood girl’ course. Please keep all future essays readable and APPROPRIATE.”

Can you believe that? What nonsense! My essay was totally appropriate and fart from being a hood girl story-quote on quote. I hope that lady falls down the abyss of mid-life crisis. She sure needs to take a Midol or something to keep her off my Bunsen burner. Sheesh, whoever gave that lady her job as a creative writing teacher should be questioned on their acuity.
Now, back to the story. So, after shoving my SECOND ‘F’ paper from that mean old dragon in my endless back-pack of cosmetics and notebooks, I quickly slammed my locker door shut and slinked to the library for some early studying for my next period class- which happens to be Social Science and the teacher is a crazed lunatic. Since I have some amount of affinity for that man and his pitiful, divorced, bisexual life, I actually try to do well in his class so he can have something to go back and tell his dog.
Greeted by the elderly librarian who knew me by name with that alacrity I have become accustomed to, I carefully signed my name on the sign- in sheet and took my place down stairs near the math -book section for some studying of the dreaded inequality, the math procedure I have so much antipathy for, I wish its creator would get shot and killed where they stand.
Once downstairs, I was bombarded with the sight of the two lamest clubs in the school, the Alchemist club- who try to turn ordinary objects into precious metals- and the cheap shoppers club- the club that studies the art of shopping for alloy rather than authentic gold. Since they are the lamest clubs ever created in all of man-kind, I try my best to steer clear of coming into contact with them because of my reputation. My best-friends said that sudden contact would ruin me, so I take their opinions and ideas into consideration at all times. Everything they say is something I always end up agreeing with anyway, so I am always amenable to what they have to say.
Taking my place near the towering bookshelves complete with dozens of volumes of numerical lettered manuscripts, I carefully remove a dusty hardcover book on inequalities from the confinements of a book on fractions and a book on decimals with ease. I want to append the book back on the shelf and forget I ever picked it up, but this evil manual has the techniques I need to pass this class and get my credit for graduation. I never knew completing four years of math just for a simple acceptance to the college of choice could be an arduous task.
Now, before I could even get my butt in the seat and read the migraine causing hardcover, I heard an erotic noise and saw a few books ascend from atop of the bookshelf and fall onto the carpeted floor with a loud ‘THUD’. Out of curiosity, I quickly got up from my chair to check out what was going on behind shielding bookcases. To my surprise, I saw Ms.Williams- that evil woman who gives me bad grades because of my ‘HOOD girl’ stories- and Mr. Johnson- the fully devoted Christian living fifty-year old who completely lives the ascetic lifestyle most my friends can’t comprehend- making out and groping each other like their lives depended on it. My mouth just fell in awe as I tried to comprehend and take in everything. Here is the hypocrite herself, who has the audacity to judge me and my essays by calling them ‘GHETTO’, doing the exact same thing I write about with the man who gives an augury from out the bible every morning before class. Talk about making an auspicious debut to you-tube.
Trying not to be seen, I slowly took out my Iphone and set it to record video. With every passing second, I captured the imagery that would soon make me famous amongst the internet community. Now, my austere existence will soon be traded in for a life full of recognition and fame.
After about seven minutes of watching the two people I never thought would ever hook up make-out and grope, I switched my phone off and hurried to the computer to upload the video on my internet account for distribution. It took about ten minutes for the video to fully become transferred from my phone, so while I waited, I applied my cherry-flavored lip- balm to my chapped lips while watching some guy attempt to ask some girl out by trying to charm her with his benevolence and benign attitude. His actions betokened his gentle heart, but it was a lame effort to win some girl over without money.
About a minute later, the bell rang signaling next period, and I quickly dipped out of the library so I wouldn’t be seen breaking the computer-lab rules of uploading. In just seconds, I made it to my math class as being the first one there. It won me extra-credit points, but the only thing I was looking foreword to was the responses I would get on my video. To my surprise, when I got home that evening from school, I had already received 1,000plus hits with about fifty comments ranging from the

“OH SNAPS!”

To the
“WOW!! HOT STUFF THERE!”

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And there you have it. The hood girl that was once making a name for herself in a new school with new people had turned into an instant celebrity in a matter of hours. Of course some of my blighted friends had to separate from me because of what I was infamous for now, but I didn’t care. I am still as buoyant as ever with even more friends and groupies. Ms. Williams and Mr. Johnson ended up getting fired for inappropriate behavior and my creative writing grade suddenly shot up from a ‘D’ to an ‘A’. Even the news and media coverage had come to our school to information of the front page head-line that had swept the nation.

“Romantically involved teachers become intimate in library!”

The principal said it was a disgrace to the school. The superintendant said it tarnished their good name. The board of education said it was the diarrhea of the education system. The last one was a gut buckler.

So now I am famous and known for the greatest scandal in history of Robert Morris High School. You want to know something else? I saw Mr. Woodsfield and Ms. Finke go in the office closet for an hour or two. What they don’t know is that there is hidden camera behind the brook Ms.Firke was laid on. Can someone say 1,000,000plus hits?