Hey asshole, catch!

Thought I forgot about being a douche? Hells no. I'm not going to spend all of Shit Week being doucheless, oh no, I got some serious cruelty to catch up on. That's right you pathetic fucklickers, I brought latex gloves to college for that.

I was taking a dump after I had no more classes to go to. It was the perfect day, and it was the perfect plan for a perfect attack. Everything was perfect except for one thing. There was no fucking victim. A douche cannot be without a victim. I was going to give up and flush the toilet when I heard the door creak open. Fuck yes! I reached in and grabbed two handfuls of shit. I peeked over. It was Dumbass from Psychology class. What luck! I screamed a battle cry and hurled the shit at him. "What the fu-" he began. WAP! A shit exploded across his white Abercrombie and Fitch sweatshirt. He held up his arms to cover his face as the second one pelted right through the opening and into his sweatshirt's neck. Then I ran, abandoning the gloves at a nearby bush. He doesn't know me. He prolly thought I was some psycho hiding in the stall or something. I'm proud to chuck shit on shit like him, like I'm Shaka Zulu, African warrior. Fuck it I'm too fucking high to write more to you motherfuckers. Later fuckthatcher.