Anti-Vaxxer Logic Applied to Your Middle School Years

Dude, remember how you popped a boner in Mr. Dawkins’ 3rd period art class that one time? He was showing us 17th-century Dutch still lifes and you totally popped a boner. Me and Brady both saw it, dude. No lie. We were giggling and shit and you were all like, “Nah man, it’s just the seam of my pants or something.” You were wearing sweatpants! What kind of bullshit story is that? Face it—you’re so horny for Dutch still lifes that they make you pop boners in public. Yeah huh, dude; everybody agreed after Brady pointed it out. If the whole class believed it, then that means there must be some truth to it.

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When Jeff Harvey saw you wearing white socks with Birkenstocks he laughed so hard he started coughing like crazy and had to leave algebra class to get a drink of water. Then in eighth grade he was wheezy all the time and had to carry an inhaler wherever he went because his asthma had gotten so bad. Do I really have to connect the dots for you? Your stupid ass Birks ruined his lungs.

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Somebody farted on the school bus and Brendan McCabe blamed it on you. While you guys were arguing Max O’Donnell tried to open a window and Wendy Pope’s hair got stuck in it. She screamed so loud the bus driver nearly swerved off the road and Brendan’s backpack spilled everywhere. When the bus driver came back to check on Wendy he found the switchblade that fell out of Brendan’s bag. He got kicked out of school because you couldn’t just admit you were the mystery farter! Dude, you definitely farted during that fire drill the week before but still denied it even though everybody heard it! That establishes a clear link between you and unclaimed farts.

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Oh man, you totally almost ralphed that one time in shop class when Mr. Baumgardner cut his finger on a table saw. The weird thing was Mr. B was always super careful but that was the same day we had a new girl in our class. Her family had just moved to town from somewhere out past East Bum-fuck and she smelled like swamp ass. Here’s the thing: Mr. B had never cut himself on the equipment before, so obviously that new girl coming to our school with her rank stank somehow caused Mr. B to cut his finger. I don’t know how they’re actually related, dude; all I’m saying is you can’t prove they aren’t.

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In English class Mr. Daly pointed out you’d plagiarized most of your book report on The Sun Also Rises from the internet. He found which site you snagged it from and showed everybody on the overhead projector, bruh! A year later he died. Oh, you don’t think there’s a connection? Look, the “official story” from the school admin may have blamed it on a heart attack but where’s the real evidence to support that? Did you see the death certificate? Nah, that shit was just a big cover-up. His disappointment over having to call you out for plagiarizing that report is actually what killed him.

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Remember that time you tried to talk to Angie Driscoll when she was drinking from the water fountain and she choked because you startled her and her friends whisked her away and you just stood there staring at your pants? That’s why your parents got divorced.

Oh yeah? Prove it.