End of Story. Period.

by Colt (J.R.) Cassidy

The Free-Ass. Press Editorial Bored is proud to present the commentary of Colt (J.R.) Cassidy, a conservative columnist, card-carrying member of the NRA and possibly your high school algebra teacher.

Graduation Address to Naperville Central High School
May 24, 2009

All right, stop applauding. You bombed the final, and I haven't decided if I'm grading on a curve yet, so a little clapping won't do jack for your grade situation.

It's a pleasure to speak here today because it means we've reached the point in the year where I don't have to teach you anymore. However, I wouldn't miss the opportunity to give you one more piece of inspirational, life-affirming advice before you go to college, get strung out smoking drugs, drop out and end up in the g*ddamn ditch like the economy has thanks to President Barack Hussein Obama.

Don't smoke drugs, kids. And don't drop out of college. Actually, go ahead and do those things, because it doesn't matter. You will still end up in the g*ddamn ditch. Look at me. I wanted to be a high school principal. I taught algebra for 27 years, and I'm not even head of the math department yet. Who is? That dick, Stromberg, who is half my age and has some fancy degree from Southwest Missouri State. What's so inspirational about that? I just saved you 27 years of going after your dreams. It won't happen. Trust me. You should be excited about that. Your future is a blank slate. And so is my pension.

That's also why you shouldn't plan for the future. You put your life savings in stocks and real estate, and what happens? The school board invests it in Bernie Madoff and poof: The g*ddamn ditch.

Hey! If I see that beach ball fly one more time, you'll all get Saturday detention. I'll turn the lunchroom into the biggest detention hall you've ever seen if I have to. I'm serious as a heart attack, mister.

And for the parents, sorry the news isn't so good. You know I'm right. At least this was a good excuse to eat some ambrosia salad and see Grandma. Before you know it, she'll be dead, you'll be broke from paying her funeral expenses and your kids' out-of-state binge drinking and pretty soon everyone will be wondering how you wound up in the g*ddamn ditch.

So, congratulations everyone. In case I don't see you in summer school, I told you so.

Senior class dismissed -- figuratively and literally.