The End of Mirth

My summer is officially over.

This morning, with a heavy heart and a bloodied spirit, I must return to the classroom and engage my chosen profession. I suppose a part of me finds energy and renewal in this turn of events, but mostly it makes me want to slip a shotgun barrel in my mouth (perhaps after dipping the muzzle in chili for added flavor).

Where did those two months go? I guess between tutoring, spare shifts at my second job, trips to the cabin, Rock TV meetings and writing poison-tipped editorials blaming Gov. Pawlenty for the 35W bridge collapse, my time was basically filled. Oh, also I attempted to train bears to maul the homeless, but with precious little success.

(I’m sure Ben Franklin once coined a phrase to describe this phenomena of time’s hasty passage, but nothing is coming to mind at the moment. Thanks for nothing, you fat son of a bitch.)

And so I am off to once again teach innocent young children the vagaries of our world’s history, what with all the despotism, ethnic rapings, Tim Pawlenty and whatnot. It’s a duty I cherish, that of souring the souls of the next generation to all that is pure and true. In this way I suppose I’m a bit like a hungover Mr. Rogers.

Happy first day of school everyone!

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4 Responses to The End of Mirth

  1. Adam says:

    *raises goblet brimming with ale*

    To the first day of school!

  2. Thom says:

    I always knew when it was time to go back to school as the overwhelming desire for suicide would come home to roost comfortably in it’s fall home.

  3. Kevin s. says:

    My 3 months vacation is over! Wah!!!!

  4. Sarabeth says:

    Mr. Welle, you’re unwholesome…

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