There are few things worse than the armpit of an ape.

Know what? Life is a bloody soggy maggot-infested shitpile. A pile of cat shit. The stinky kind.
Hmph.
September will come and go, followed by October and November, pausing for December when the keystones of wisdom will be removed. After a period of discomfort, January will tiredly herald a new year and perhaps a new president, February will remind me of the void inside my soul and March will hide in a corner because it's a stupid month. If I'm not dead by that time April will assault me with a reminder that I am soon being shuffled off to colleges. Oh- wait! We forgot the large brick wall called the SATs. Ha. Silly me. May never means anything anyway, and come June, I will be one year older and none the wiser. In fact, the way this year is going, I may be mentally, socially and physically annihilated. *Shrugs* And here I thought I was going to die at twenty...