My Late Senior Year
To start off this essay I will talk about the the recent attack the socially acceptable femorrhoids of my school choreographed against me. Originally I actually believed the femorrhoids didn't have cruel intentions despite their lenient and often promiscuous fashion choices such as leather pants and hot pink belts on jean skirts, not to mention the glittery vomit that is "Justice" clothing.One of the girls, who I thought was the most casual and sane of the femtard possé, began the whole group's malephobic crusade just last week. It wore a V-neck with a deep cut that day, but I kept my more "exotic parts" tame. Then came Gym, which included the girl and I, and 2 of the 7 other femorrhoids. (Just some background info, I am the top of my class. Gym is where I excel. Not an exaggeration, I've had straight A's nearly every year since pre-K.)
The colour scheme of its outfit was purposely the colors of the far left wing group, Bisexuals. I put it off at first, because of the rare scenario this choice was not meant to opress christianity but it just thought the colours looked nice without processing their implications. If it just picked those colours coincidentally, I wouldn't have been as pissed about that day. The first sign I got that the femorrhoid knew what it was doing was when it made a flirtacious comment to my best bud.
As we were walking laps in Gym, it would giggle after every word he said, obviously trying to trap him into marriage. A common trait amongst Bisexuals is desperation. This is why members of the Bisexual gang have chosen to hit on both men and women non-stop as a lifestyle. I easily concluded this was a bisex and I even asked to be sure.
The femorrhoid chirpily said "yes." I held back my groan and admired my wit as we turned the corner.
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