David Zhang

"Bitchass! I will rectify you for not bring in the trash like I told you!"
said Mrs. Zhang, informing me, David Zhang, that like the bitchass I was, I
needed to take out the trash like the good bitch that I was/am.

I was usually rectified by my mother 3-5 times a week, it was during those
rectifying sessions that I learned how to howl in pain. I broke two of vocal
chords eventually, creating a unique raspyness to my voice when I sing.

My mother always made the best dinners, she would call out into the streets,
"Come get your dinner you rectified little good for nothing bitchass
rectimomasboy pansy buttass!"
And she would force feed me my own toes. Toes taste bad, never eat them.

After awhile I ran away from home after running out of toes to eat, (I never
learned how to eat anything else up to then) and I came to a building on the
street corner. It was a billards/motel/eatery. After paying the waitress in
sexual favors for my food, I struck up conversations with the local bus
boys. Who were tiny.

alas it was time to leave the diner, and so i gave the cook a goodbye kiss
and started on my way.
"wait!" cried the busboys. "we want to come with you, David "the glorious"
Zhang!" and so i tucked them into my shirt front pocket and hit the road. As
i hitchhiked my way across America, i learned the rules of the trade, and
earned my keep through "road head" and other such formalities as exercised
by travelers and passer-bys. In Mexico, i stole a guitar, and taught myself
how to play it, and studied music theory from the comprehensive music
journal "Music Theory: By Joe Perloff" That was a fine book. When I arrived
in Rockville Maryland i decided to go to school. Boy was that a mistake.
i've been stuck here for twelve years and i haven't learned a @#%$ thing.
Luckily i found myself hanging out with these cool boys collectively called
Woody the Fish. Well, they weren't called that yet, but we went to wheaton
and got shot at, and when we calmed down and realized we were still alive,
we decided to call ourselves that. So the saga began, as andy drove our
magnificent mini van back from Wheaton that night, with our bellies full of
McDonalds and candysweets and moon pie, I knew that i was home at last. I
slept over at paul's house that night, but when i woke up...

So then I found myself covered in Peanut Butter!

The sticky mess clung to my naked body, as i tried to free myself from on op
of Paul. "Help!" i cried, "I need somebody, not just anybody." But it was no
use, the peanut butter was as strong as ever, still clenching its ugly fist
around my teaming body. Finally after about a day and a half, i freed my
self from its clutches. I was tired and hungry, i had no where to go. The
end drew near, i felt deaths cold hand graze my face and whisper sweet
nothins into my ear. Wait. Maybe hat was Joe. Anyway, just when i thought i
could go no further, the faint sound of a squeak hit my ears. As i looked to
my left, i saw a heard of friendly rats, coming my way. I knew they were
friendly from their joyous song they were singing: "fa la la, were friendly
rats, fa la la, we dont like cats, fa la la all we ever do is try, to help
people when they die..." I was saved!!! These were the mythical rats i had
heard about. As they came closer, i could see their little tiny rat eyes and
i wondered, about camels, and how they never need water. They swarmed my
body, but they weren't just rats. They were super intelligent bidpedal rats,
and they sure knew what they were talking about! Never again would i be so
silly as to even consider using the momentum of my one swinging testicle as
a wrecking ball type apparatus. Not even in self-defense...And that's how
they make babies.

David Zhang

P.S. I really wanted to give everyone a picture of me naked and quivering,
but I thought of our troops, and this is from my war journals, a picture of
me that captures the essence of courage, honor, and dignity. I needed to
show this to the world, remember me Bobby, remember me. Glory.