As I stand here, throwing up, I can't help but notice out of the periphery of my eyes that all you people- past the disgusted faces and nauseous reflexes- are happy. Happy to be here. Happy to see me puke out my lunch and breakfast and snacks I had in between. You are here, comfortable with yourselves, in the midst of all this chaos flowing like a soupy waterfall out my mouth, and you can't take that away from yourself. You feel shame for me. You feel anger towards me. You feel jealous of me. But you feel. And isn't that the most important part? While we-- hwaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaa. UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH---- excuse me- While we are in our- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Man, a lot came out that time. I'm being waved off? But I- EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAGGGGG.
Oh be careful. You might slip on it. I feel dangerously light, oh right, my speech--- Remember fellow classmates, that I did not puke today, but that we- we Gary Larson Senior High School for the Ulterior Motivtated Class of 2010- we were bonded by my puking. I have more written down, but the sun is setting on my vomit and it smells awful all around me.
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