165 lines
8.9 KiB
Plaintext
165 lines
8.9 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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This is your brain on life
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--------------------------
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A mind is a terrible thing. If you have one, they'll try to waste you.
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My mind has always kept me down. I got a 1340 on my SATs in seventh grade.
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Goody for me, right? Well, instead of that getting me ahead, it got me
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beaten up. I don't mean once, I mean on a daily basis. I was a punching bag
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for every bully in my school. Although most of them told me my smart mouth
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had something to do with it, too. After the first two weeks of daily
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beatings, it actually seemed to be helping me, if you can believe that. I
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didn't cry when they hit me. I didn't start hitting them back at that
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point, but their punches didn't seem to phase me anymore. They gave up on
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me, and seemed to forget about me and move on to new prey. Then it
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happened. There was this girl named Mari who I had the crush on for the
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longest time, but of course she dated one of the bullies. While walking
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through the halls during my study hall period, I saw him hit her. He *hit*
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her. Not a slap, mind you, a punch. He *hit* her.
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I wasn't to stand for such shit. I walked up to her, she was on the ground
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crying, him standing over her, and now telling me to "back the fuck away".
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He tried to push me as I bent over to help her up. Once she was off the
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ground, I put my arm around her and tried to help her walk away. He grabs
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me by the shoulder and I turn away.
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"What's this, pussy?," he says to me.
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He hits me. In all the days he and his friends beat me, He had never hit me
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like this. I fell over, and could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Fuck
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this. I got up, and hit him back - twice in the face, three more times in
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the stomach. It was like all the rage I had ever felt came out on him. He
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was on the ground now. The bell had just rung, and all the rest of the
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school came filing out of their classes. I could feel them staring, I could
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hear them laughing. But I didn't stop. I began kicking him in the stomach,
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and continued to do so until two of the security guards pulled me away. I
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was later told I broke two of his ribs. And aside from a black eye and 3
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weeks of In School Suspension, I emerged unscathed.
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The next year and a half, I was not fucked with. Good thing right?
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Then comes Freshman year. Its like you fight so hard to get to the top of
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your school, and then the system forces you to start all over again. But
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it's a good thing too. A fresh start. I deliberately picked a high school
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that I knew none of the people from my school were going to. Here I wasn't
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a brain. I was a Freshman.
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Soon enough I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. My freshman year was
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mostly forgotten in a haze of refer and the smell of boiling heroin. I lost
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sixty pounds though, and was no longer the fat kid. That's really the only
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plus I can think of from my freshman year.
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But I promised myself that my sophomore year was gonna be different. I went
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to all my classes. But the hour a day of student assistance in the computer
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lab, and being on the school newspaper, really helped me through the day,
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but at the same time it hurt me. Ms. Lyons was the head of the computer
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lab, and I knew so much more than she. I set up the whole lab within the
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first week, while she asked what I was doing. But yet again, brains get me
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in trouble. I was asked to conference with one of the administrators. He
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informed me that the school has a list of "known Hackers". He then went on
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to explain that the purpose of this list was so "if there are any problems
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with any of our computers or phones, we go to you first." This statement
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was horrible enough. Then he tells me "you're going on this list."
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WHAT?!?!? So because I am smarter than you, because I am smarter than my
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teachers, I am a suspect in a crime that hasn't even been committed?!?
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I told him not to do that.
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He said he was going to anyway.
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I told him to get to fuck.
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He told me that I would get a week of ISS for that statement.
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Despite the fact that I kept trying to get this story in the school paper,
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we are censored again and again. Funny how the administrator who told me
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I'm on the list, is the same one who gets the choice of what gets censored
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and what doesn't.
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Then I decide to run for class president. The gal who I'm running against
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has been president both Frosh and Soph years. I want to be it junior year.
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So I run. First I get kicked out for running a "slanderous campaign".
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Their definition: I made the statement of "I think our class needs a
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change." I complain and make a stink, I get back in, much to her dismay.
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After all, it was her and her student council cronies who decided to kick
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me out in the first place.
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Within a week, I get kicked out again. This time I don't get an
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explanation. I am called into a conference with the principal.
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"You're out of the election."
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"What?! Why?!"
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"We don't feel that you're the best choice for our school, or for your class."
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"Well, isn't that for my class to decide on election day?"
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"You're out of the election."
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Fuck her. I kept putting up posters, only adding "WRITE ME IN!" on the
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bottom. They don't stop me.
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Election Day comes, and several people tell me they wrote me in. The gal's
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name isn't on the ballot. Because when I was kicked out, they named her
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President. Out of a little over 200 ballots, 183 have my name written in.
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I was what the people wanted. I won. I played by their rules, despite the
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fact that they tried to handicap me, and I still won. Of course I wouldn't
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be allowed to serve. Apparently votes aren't what win elections.
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I took the pussy way out. I forwarded the gal's phone to a 1-900 sex line
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and handed out the number around school, and turned the principals phone
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into a pay phone. That'll learn 'em.
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Now it's the summer between my sophomore and junior year. I got fired
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recently because of my morals. I was working as a telemarketer at a place
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that sold credit card security. Because it was my first month I was
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supposed to read the script verbatim, but in a rebuttle it said that if a
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customer asked "How would someone get my credit card info?", I was supposed
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to say "There are malicious criminals called hackers that will stop at
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nothing to get your information." I refused to say it. I refused to help
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perpetuate a myth. And besides, it seemed I didn't need to. The quota was
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three sales a day, and I was making at least 4 or 5 a day. But the boss was
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monitoring, and when I didn't read the script, he called me to his office
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to talk to me. More specifically, to fire me.
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So I am skulking back to my cubicle to gather my stuff and go, when I see
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my supervisor going through my briefcase. He says it's to make sure I
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didn't steal anything. He pulls an issue of 2600 out and thrusts it in my
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face.
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"What the fuck is this? Are you stealing credit card numbers?!"
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I was shocked. just because, I read about hackers, because I support the
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cause (I'm not even a hacker!), I am supposed to be a thief?! It seemed as
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though he had believed the shit we were supposed to spew on the phones. I
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took my mag, and my briefcase, and stormed outta there.
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A mind is a terrible thing. If you have one, they'll try to waste you.
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~Tuxedo Mask
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If I had a Tux sense, I think it would be tingling right about now.
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TuxedoMask@Cyberdude.com
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
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= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
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= To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with =
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= "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back =
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= issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. =
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= AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK =
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= FTP.SEKURITY.ORG/pub/zines/fucked.up.college.kids =
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= FTP.DTO.NET /pub/zines/fuck =
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= FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK =
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= WWW *** http://www.sekurity.org/~fuck *** =
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= http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho =
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= http://www.reps.net/~krypt/fuck.html =
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= http://www.simunye.com/fuck =
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= http://www.dis.org/se7en/fuck =
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= (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. =
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