King of the Hill

jimmy carefully fondled his new iCool ®
his personality catheter connected to 5 Gig of nano presence
jimmy thought he has at least a days worth music right their in his pucking falm.
oh, i love how my hair flaps and flails in the wind as i walk by, as if it were waiving hello to the curious bystander anxiously awaiting Jimmy's rock n stroll

"i bet theyll think Im listening to Fugazi...or no no wait what if they think Im listening to the friday nachos or the stills...dude if somebody walks by me im sly enough that i can turn the dial on this here pod,(a conductor ,nay! composer! yes beethoven demanding more crescendo must be at fortissimo so i can promote my interests , you know i got all 134,746,3948,3838 gig worth sonic blasts' early only stuff.) and right when the chorus kiks into the 12th dimension ima shift my eyes to the horizon and im going to raise the right side of my bottom lip to jump over the hurdle of losers polluting this fucking shithole and carve cool all over my glowing aura ima gonna smirk at the ground and im gonna walk at a hauntingly relaxed pace, i'll even maintain my cool when i open the door 4 minutes late to french class and my blank face will ululate "that kid looks like he knows a thing or two about steve albini", and when the teacher asks for my work my reply is going to abate the infrastructure of value the professor scrambled to impart. Richard Wright is going to raise himself from the grave and he is going to fucking call me up on the phone today and ask me to rewrite his songs when i part my lips and calmly guide the air out, my reply will come swirling like spirals of smoke, and once the sound makes it to ever ones ears it takes hardly a moment to realize Jimmy had just negated the teachers unbiased proposal. here came the shining glory moment of truth for jimmy as his body language would go along ways in confirming his unbelievably low stress level in a case involving such easygoing forgetfulness as this one, any other charecter would have gulped we are sure. butnot jimmy. he said/."no, dont got it" and everyone thought "well now hes gonna shrug cause hes that kind of guy" but no! fuck no! not jimmy, o god, the class was in for it now. jimmy pulled the ace of spades out of his ass and flung it straight at the most shy kid in the classes throat, slicing him into bits that he would later package and seal n deal to his pet kit kat . later she would try to show a powerpoint online but jimmy had hacked into her computer the night before and replaced all the slides with pictures of people having intercourse. she blushed and he snapped his fingers and his backpack tied the teacher down to a table and jimmy was like "goin to the store, want anything" she said "pack cig s" he said "fuck you right? " and the fattest motherfucker in the entire universe shit everywhere, on everything, from every directions, spread to other classes, then it flooded the entire city and it bloomed outward like a cocoon splitting ends. to other cities, to other countries, entire rain forest gone in a splash. the paint peeled off of the white house. mahlers symphonies were lost in the final gathering of a truly astounding phenomena rarely eperienced in all 3 dimensions. retards were reborn. christ choked on the fumes and fell butt naked onto the pavement, finally dead. finally. jimmy snapped his finger again and everything was sucked back up into the anal vacuum of his fattest cohort and right before jimmy let the class continue it's limited droll, he shoveled his head to the right ,lit a cigarette and exhaled "Pavement's bass player 1876 circa rose floyd stomp pedal led tuner ,look it up bitch" jimmy blew out the candle of oppression and stomped his foot on a dod grunge pedal with a battery he pick pocketed from the 711 earlier that evening and licked his lips when he cuddled with the warm glass of certainty(80 proof) he poured for himself later that day