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My Underachiever's Anonymous Club

Short story By: Russ Teed
Humor



An egregious election that is unpalatable


Submitted:Mar 25, 2013    Reads: 49    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   


Depression can bring you to the top

I guess I was just voted president of my club. Oh how I've waited not at all for this day to not arrive.

The things I had to not do to get here. Having no plan, set no goals, doing as little as possible with the least amount of effort exerted.

Complete absence of diligence and lucidity is the key. For me any task that can be done today can easily be done tomorrow, or never.

No aspirationsor expectations is how I roll. So thank you for nothing my Underachievers Anonymous club members.

I promise I will let you down often and willingly, and watch life pass me by to a certain less than mediocrity manner.

I will do as little as possible for you my sorry group of incompetent, insolvent, wretched losers, my friends. Thank you very little, or not at all, I really don't careā€¦

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I came home after my reluctant acceptance speech and was more depressed than I've ever been in my life.

I walked in the door and my house was engulfed in flames. I had forgotten to shut off the stove again. Tragically, my chicken nuggets that were in the stove were completely ruined.

I tried to dial 911 but my cell phone had a dead battery. So, I ventured to my car to use that charger but that was engulfed in flames also.

The car heater doesn't work so I made a little kindling fire in the passenger seat floor. I forgot to shut the heat off again. I had just filled the tank too - such a waste of costly fuel.

I thought of going to my mom's house but then I remembered that her house was gone. A couple of weeks ago she smelled gas in her basement and went down to check for leaks with my make-shift leak detector. Sure enough my Bic lighter found the leak, it was a big one.

As I walked up to the nearest hotel I wiped the dog desecration off the bottom of my shoe and headed in. My room centered between two aspiring rock bands in the rooms on either side of me.

I hopped into the bed and my car keys had accidently punctured the water bed. After I was dried off, relocated to another room (full of brooms and mop buckets), and charged my phone, I went into the fetal position and clicked on Booksie.

Just when I thought my typical day would inexorably end in conflagrating disaster yet again, it had been saved after I was alerted by an angelic little rectangular red Booksie "friend request" icon from Miss Maria Linda. Evidently she hasn't a clue of my incessant malevolency that plagues all who enter, the Booksie world of Russ Teed.





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