Still Attractive (a slightly more honest post)

   Readers I know you love me, but you don't really love the real me. I am not some super attractive prison inmate, known for his contributions to the local community as well as the internet. I am in fact a super attractive 16 year old upstanding citizen known for his contributions to the community, and this blog was the result of a non-fiction writing class that I now have to reflect on.
  I really did enjoy the class especially this blog aspect it really allowed me to explore my personality seeing exactly how much of a jackass I could be in my writing, and writing a character rather than yourself is quite the experience as well. However I think I may have stretched the boundaries of the blog a little, as very little of my stories are true and thus not non-fiction writing. In my defense a few were true (the old shampoo lady was an actual experience). It was also a really easy way to workshop a lot of writing. Students could post comments on their peers writing rather than spending multiple days in class discussing the writing.
  As for the rest of the class, as in not blogs, I really like how well some of the essays prepared me for my college essays, at least I hope they did I have no idea what college essays are actually like. Either way good stuff, including the books. Botany of Desire should be read next year by the way. It really shows how informal a research type book can be which I really had never seen before.
  I do however wish there were more people on my level of attractiveness, that really needs to be fixed next year, someone should form a committee or something.

F*** tha Police

   Readers I write this from a cage, a cage for the soul, body, and minds of men. The Santa-Monica penitentiary center. Now readers you may be asking how I got into such a predicament being so attractive. Well readers this predicament started while I was cruising the California countryside in my Lamborghini. Some of the popo seemed to take offense to my cruising speed of around 120 mph, their lights went on as soon as I passed their waiting squad cars. The police were obviously jealous of my lambo's cruising speed racing me through the valley, with the meow of the fuzz's ford matching the roar of my high performance Lamborghini, the orchestra of speed was echoing off all walls of the canyon. When, after a solid hour of racing, we reached the outskirts of L.A. I pulled over and waited to congratulate the officer on the excellent effort he had put in despite his loss. However when I pulled over he seemed angry over losing to me even pulling his gun on me. I re-assured the officer I was attractive and there was no reason to resort to violence. This officer was so uptight that when i tried to pull his gun down he pulled his taser on me delivering 50,000 volts straight into my sexy frame. After collapsing into an attractive lump on the ground I was put into the squad car and taken to the nearby police station.
    Once inside the police station I was given one phone call. I of course called my good friend Mitt Romney to bail me out, he must've been playing a joke on me or something, as he pretended not to know who the attractive man was. It's probably a Mormon thing. So I've now spent the last three nights sitting in this fine disceplanary establishment with multiple other upstanding citizens. My favorite inmate is Fred he taught me how to make a shank out of steak and an old sock.  However Bill told me to shank the guard with my newly fashioned blade or else he would hit me so hard my mother would hurt. But the joke was on him because my mom is dead so I didn't shank the guard, this seemed to piss Bill off who I was forced to apprehend with my steak & sock shank, the shank was actually surprisingly effective he hit the floor hard so big shout out to Fred for passing on his street knowledge.
     Now the warden, after Bill's apprehension at my hands, has said something about aggravated assault and a life sentence. As he rambled though all I could think of were the words of the great Ice-T and his ragtag team of poets known as N.W.A. "F*** the police coming straight form the underground." So readers as I begin my new life as inmate 3469 remember Ice-T's words and fight the good fight, the good attractive fight.