Fuck you Mickey Ackerman
Dear Ackerman,
Okay, I understand that your penis is a few inches shorter than you'd prefer and yes, I am taller than you and yes, I am infact a girl but this is not a reason to give anything other than a decent grade in your class. Let's face it, you were jealous of my waterwheel..of those superior craft skills which allowed for my 3/4inch steel ball bearing to move through a 3 foot cube for 42 seconds instead of thirty. You were jealous of the fact that I am entirely incapable of making a perfect cube even when I use a net printed off the internet. You were jealous that you had to make my perfect spheres for me. Oh, and you remember that bridge? Yeah...well you really loved me for that one because there was no reason that thing should have worked beyond half a second. All those days I went on extended coffee breaks? What? oh I'm sorry, you weren't aware that I was crying in the alley? Huh, well I guess I should have been more vulnerable and frail and floofy then. Should I have twirled my hair Mickey Ackerman? Should I have giggled when my projects failed? But the kicker, Oh yes the cardboard chair. 200+ circles cut out by hand you greasy mother fucker. There was no sleep. Not even the kind you sneak in after a 4am shower. There was not sleep for 3 days not to mention the fact that I breezed through my other finals with simple self guided projects (which all got me A's)a week early so GOD FORBID I should actually have the time to make something to impress Mr. Industrial Design. Go back to India to your Mystic Mountain Man and try working on yourself for a change jackass, cause maybe if you look hard enough on your pseudo sabbatical you'll realize that you're not even a human being. Okay, I'm a painting major and yes I understand that makes me somehow morally incapable of being a decent living creature in your sight but cut the fucking crap.
Sincerely,
Kristen Renee Calcaterra, Insult to all that is Three-Dimensional
Okay, I understand that your penis is a few inches shorter than you'd prefer and yes, I am taller than you and yes, I am infact a girl but this is not a reason to give anything other than a decent grade in your class. Let's face it, you were jealous of my waterwheel..of those superior craft skills which allowed for my 3/4inch steel ball bearing to move through a 3 foot cube for 42 seconds instead of thirty. You were jealous of the fact that I am entirely incapable of making a perfect cube even when I use a net printed off the internet. You were jealous that you had to make my perfect spheres for me. Oh, and you remember that bridge? Yeah...well you really loved me for that one because there was no reason that thing should have worked beyond half a second. All those days I went on extended coffee breaks? What? oh I'm sorry, you weren't aware that I was crying in the alley? Huh, well I guess I should have been more vulnerable and frail and floofy then. Should I have twirled my hair Mickey Ackerman? Should I have giggled when my projects failed? But the kicker, Oh yes the cardboard chair. 200+ circles cut out by hand you greasy mother fucker. There was no sleep. Not even the kind you sneak in after a 4am shower. There was not sleep for 3 days not to mention the fact that I breezed through my other finals with simple self guided projects (which all got me A's)a week early so GOD FORBID I should actually have the time to make something to impress Mr. Industrial Design. Go back to India to your Mystic Mountain Man and try working on yourself for a change jackass, cause maybe if you look hard enough on your pseudo sabbatical you'll realize that you're not even a human being. Okay, I'm a painting major and yes I understand that makes me somehow morally incapable of being a decent living creature in your sight but cut the fucking crap.
Sincerely,
Kristen Renee Calcaterra, Insult to all that is Three-Dimensional