My comprehension skills are off the charts
I’m the number-one keyboard warrior at UC Davis. I earned this distinction after years of hunting my poor, sniveling victims on social media. It’s impossible to defeat my carefully crafted evidence for why you suck. Don’t be fooled — I’m a fantastic student with tons of hobbies and friends, and I’m incredibly fun to be around. But that’s only when I’m not rubbing my cerebral abilities in your face.
What’s the rub, you ask? I have many skills: I can read and write better than you because I took English 10 and got a B-plus on my first paper. I know the ins and outs of the English language, my theirs from my thees, my thous from my come-hithers. I know the difference between Gloria Steinem and John Steinbeck. I scheduled 14 units and an extra yoga class for intellectual stimulation. I can ride a bike without holding any handlebars. I can recite four lines of “Hamlet” and describe Virginia Woolf’s subconscious in detail. I took nine AP classes in high school and my favorite teacher once gave me a silent snap after I checked my privilege at the front office.
I know what Faulkner is saying even if he didn’t. I can count the spaces between a period and a capital letter and formulate a complex argument on the nature of the universe from the resulting chaos without appearing too long-winded. I always remember to cross my t’s and dot my i’s. I can type esoteric syllogisms without looking at my keyboard. I will expose your innate hypocrisy without revealing my own. I put “Knowledge of Excel” on my resume. After I got seven retweets last year, I smoked a blunt in the Arboretum — but please don’t tell my AP teachers.
I hope you aren’t bothered by my soliloquizing, but I don’t spare problematic feelings. The vapid masses should understand my point of view and deal with it. I’m a grown-up, not a child, with a lifetime of academic rochambeau under my belt. Where others rant, I rave. The only tool I need is an iPhone 8 Plus with a PopSocket.
Please don’t get offended if I use ad hominems to grind you down. I have a right — no, a duty — to spread my knowledge-seed around the internet waves. My insightful commentary can actually cure your cerebral darkness. While low-lifes toil in easy classes, I drink CoHo lattes and do thumb workouts. I eat oatmeal raisin cookies and shop at Trader Joe’s to fuel my invectives.
You can’t hide from my intellect. Fortune favors me because I own social media. I’d like to add you to the waitlist for becoming my friend, but I’m worried about your reputation for original thinking. It’s too much sometimes. I’d rather go full duello on you with my online wordplay. I’m a lot smarter than you, so I have no chance of losing. Don’t believe me? Just check my Facebook commenting history.
Written by: Nick Irvin — firstname.lastname@example.org
(This article is humor and/or satire, and its content is purely fictional. The story and the names of “sources” are fictionalized.)
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