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The Things you do Wrong

A satiric article
By: Melanie Morin
Hey, everybody! What's up in your hood? Haha, just kidding, I'm not really in a gang. Anyway, I'm sure all of you are really anxious for my report of your school, as I walked around judging people by what they look like and if they wear clothes that I think are worthy of me and my wardrobe. Well, you won't have to wait any longer, 'cause I've found plenty of things wrong with the way people dress. However, because I've found so many things wrong with other things you do, I only have one fashion victim that I just have to comment on.
Okay, so, I don't know if you guys have noticed her, but there's this really ugly girl with this wicked unbouncy hair who wears, like, no make-up, and actually goes around school in these scrubby "Weird Al" Yankioversachi, or whatever, shirts. I mean, come on, what is wrong with her? I wouldn't be caught dead in an outfit like that. On top of that, her pants aren't even tight, or anything. They, like, are, like, not three sizes too small, like mine. Gawd, she's such a loser!
So, then, like, I saw her in the bathroom, right? And I'm like, "Are you actually a fan of that Al guy?" and she's all like, "No, of course not! He's such an idiot! I just own

fifteen Weird Al shirts, listen to his music all the time, and tape all of his t.v. appearances, but, other than that, I hate him!" "Oh, Phew, I thought that you were just some freaky-looking girl with bad taste" I like, said. And then she gave me this really strange and said something like "airhead" or whatever. I guess that's some sort of band or something.
Oh, and, like, on the first day of school, there was this really freaky guy who kept begging me to join the Math Team and some really stupid paper called "Blazing Saddles: Blue," or something. He had this really freaky look in his eyes and kept asking me, over and over again to join something. So, I felt bad for him (I think he's a little mentally, uh, stupid) so I joined the dumb paper, which is why I get this daily article. 
And then on, I think it was Saturday, this guy, named, uh, Bush or whatever, came to our school. I think he was on Family Ties, or something. He must have been pretty famous 'cause all these guys were guarding him on the roof, and they kept looking at me, and I was all, like, "Hey! Stop looking at me!" and stuff. Gawd, it's like, I can't go anywhere without guys just staring at me. 
Then, I saw him come out of the office place thing and he kept trying to, like, grab my hand. I think he was hitting on me. So, I'm all like, "Hey! Stop trying to grab my hand," and he's all like, "Please, vote for me! Ple-e-e-ease!" and he was all, like, crying and stuff. I guess his running for, like, the Major Double Loser 2000 Award, or whatever, 'cause he was such a, like, major double loser, and stuff.
Enough about Bush, though, let's get back to what you people do wrongly. So, I was put into this Academic English class, right? In it, there were these people that, like, kind of did

their homework good, sometimes. I mean, what happened to slacking off, cheating, and letting someone else do your work for you? Geesh, you guys, get with the program. Fortunately, I was switched out of that class and put into a special class where people had the same homework philosophy that I did: don't do it, and, if you do, wait till the last minute and do a really bad job.
Well, that's all the time I have this week. I hope to see you all around school, except that ugly loser girl and that messed-up guy. I think that your school is nothing compared to my old one, but I'm sure that it satisfies you humble folk just fine. Oh, and I got a couple people who said something like "Insult Mainers again, and I kick your-" something, I don't really remember, so maybe they should clear that up for me. Thanks alot to all of those people who were way nice to me and all those tons of guys who seem to be too shy to ask me out. I mean, I won't go out with you, but it's only because you don't deserve me and I'm really meant for a college guy, but that doesn't mean you can't ask! Thanks, I'm outie.