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03-12-02 - 8:27 p.m. Tonight I was searching through the zillions of files I've saved to disk over the years in hopes of finding some sort of example of "my best writing." Instead, I found something I'd composed my sophomore year. I remember this well. We had been assigned "controversial issues" about which we were to write speeches to present before the class. I had too much else to do and didn't really give a damn about my topic (animal rights�leave your hate messages in my guestbook, please) so I basically bullshat. This is something I did (do) frequently. Honor students are so full of crap you wouldn't believe it. Unless you are one yourself. So anyway, it had to be two pages in length. I purposefully neglected to ask about typeface and formatting so I could cheat. The copy I turned in had a title in 126-pt. font, followed by double-spaced 24-pt. I thought I'd share it with you. It's pretty damn stupid, but maybe you'll get a giggle out of it: "The topic of animal rights is not one of the moral dilemmas that keep me awake at night. Quite the contrary; as I sit picking the flavorless remnants of a fine juicy steak from my teeth, it never crosses my mind that this tiny, insignificant chunk lodged between incisor and bicuspid was once a living, breathing heifer. Probably named �Bessie.� In dealing with this and other over-discussed controversial issues, the likes of which can commonly be found among the dreary homework assignments in sophomore advanced English classes, I employ an �If it feels good, do it� attitude. This, of course, cannot be applied to every debatable issue. For example, I highly doubt abortion or, worse still, capital punishment, �feels good.� But the sensation of buffalo chicken strips from Denny�s on my tongue does �feel good,� at least as far as my taste buds are concerned, and therefore, the application is appropriate. Sure, I went vegetarian for a while. It didn�t last longer than two months. The truth is, as I sat eating my meatless cheeseburger at In-N-Out, gazing at the tender all-cow patties being insensitively devoured before my jealous eyes, I realized this: It is my right as a human being, the dominant species, resting comfortably atop the food chain, to determine the rights of all below me. The mere fact that I stand upright and have the ability to speak and type and offend willingly sets me apart from that which I am capable of eating. In conclusion, allow me to state that I don�t wear fur or leather. It�s the principle of not eating the skin on a chicken unless it has been fried. I prefer the meaty inside. I do not wear fried clothing. Plus, leather smells really, really bad. The end." I just took the "Which Angelina Are You?" quiz I found at Ris' diary and came out as: Woo! Gia kicked ass!
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