I'm sorry, Professor. (I did the work) I’m sorry, Professor. I believe I have gone insane. You won’t believe me, but I’ll tell you all the same. I know the assignment was important. And YOU know I’ve always been studious in my comportment. But I'm sorry to say, that today, I couldn’t complete... My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work) My Homework - can you relate? (I did the work) I hate to disappoint you, but the truth is that I ate a Melospiza melodia - in laymen’s terms - a type of sparrow. (Oh god this is so embarrassing but) I regurgitated - regurgitated... Oh my god, YES Professor, I barfed it up. All over my paper on Nietzsche and why he was chronically constipated. (I was eating at my desk you know how driven I am) My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work) My Homework - can you relate? (I did the work) It was my grand-mawma. She’s a little touched in the head. She thinks it’s the Great Depression, she saves everything and hides money under her bed. ANYWAY - I ate her chicken salad. It tasted strange and tough to chew I asked her “what’s in this grand-mawma, is it something new?” And she said street chicken. Street chicken?! (ewwwwww) I asked her, "you found a chicken in the street?" She said, "Yes, a very little one, it was already dead so I went ahead and made a lunchtime treat." (oh no) Well, Professor as you can imagine I felt quite alarmed and ran to her garbage can to assess all the harm. I found an assortment of plucked feathers and tiny little bones. I snapped a picture and triple-checked the image on my pretty little phone. And I’m sorry, Professor, but what I learned freaked me out. My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work) My Homework - can you relate? (I did the work) How can I explain the trauma? I assure you, this is not some made up drama. I hope you sympathize that when I realized the truth, I panicked - I didn’t know what to do. Call poison control? The CDC? My knowledge on this particular subject was incomplete you see. So I turned to my computer to do a very thorough search of all the ramifications of eating this so called street chicken grilled over a piece of backyard birch. For at this point how could I even trust grand-mawma had used enough heat to kill any pathogens, or god forbid - WORMS - in this sidewalk piece of meat? I had a panic attack, repulsed at all the gastrologic possibilities, and in that very moment my stomach revolted and pushed out everything. A spray of bite sized sparrow chunks flew all around the room. All over my Nietzsche thesis which dissolved in acidic doom... It was horrific. But also quite a relief in a strange way, because it was only half-digested so I think I’ll be okay. (thank you for your concern) Except - for my paper which I obviously need to redo. Could you find it in your heart to give me a week? (oh please oh please) Or perhaps… even two? My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work) My Homework - can you relate? (I did the work) My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work) My Homework - can you relate? (I did the work) I’m so sorry, Professor. (I did the work) I had to regurgitate (burp) So My Homework - it will be late. (I did the work)
