I wanna stop being stupid!

I’m pretty sure I speak on everyone’s behalf when I say that anyone can get through life without even an iota of intelligence in them. Seriously, who needs intelligence? I mean no one even likes smart people anyway. Stephen Hawking? Sure he can talk about theoretical physics all he wants, but let’s see him take on Yao Ming one on one down in the paint? Who’d be getting the chicks after that? Certainly not Mr. Wheelchairio Crippolio PhD.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me being bitter. As far back as preschool, I recall having felt intense feelings of anger and spite towards classmates who get A’s or B’s on their tests, while I received less than satisfactory grades made up of D’s and F’s.

Now while this is amusing in retrospect, I couldn’t really appreciate the D’s and the F’s my teachers gave me as they almost always meant severe spanking after class from the other members of the faculty.

Things stayed pretty much the same as I got older; only instead of D’s and F’s, the teachers wrote “5′s” on my class cards, obviously too disappointed in me to even write letters to represent my grades.

It was then when I realized that being a person of dismal intelligence is a sure way of getting kicked down a spiral staircase of failure by life. I mean, everything from tying my shoelaces to taking apart an automotive engine requires at least some sort of intelligence way beyond my reach.

Even when engaging in my favorite pastime–womanizing, I find my stupidity to be a serious hindrance. Like this one time when I stopped by a bookstore to buy some groceries. There was this cute chick in the Fiction section reading quietly to herself. I thought that with my boyish good looks and fat wallet, I could easily sweep her off her feet and win her affection–but the only thing I got was a shopping cart loaded with severe injuries to my dignity and self-respect.

Me: Hello miss, My name is Mike, I see you’re reading that book–[checking the book's cover] Oh what a mystical Coelhan surprise miss! I, too am reading that!

Girl: [Eyes widen in delight] Seriously?! I love this book! So, what do you think about the overt, almost lyrical writing of the author as he effectively and progressively uses metaphor to convey a dark yet hopeful message?

Me: [10 seconds of silence] Sex.

I think my problem is that, while witnessing other people succeed infuriates me, I never put any real effort into trying to make myself smarter. I blew my chances as far as reaping the benefits of the educational system and since I can’t read, books are out of the question.

As I see it, I only have a few options left:

Hiring a private tutor. This is a good option for me since I figured out that when I’m face to face with somebody, my mind wouldn’t drift to thinking about what food item I could stick my penis in. I’m also convinced that I will eventually learn something since most tutors I see are college students trying to make ends meet. This fact will enable me to add new words to my scant vocabulary–words like “anal” and “rape.”

Hiring somebody totally annoying. Another thing I can do is hire a really annoying person like Jessica Zafra to sink her righteous talons of estrogen-laced wit on my flesh whenever I say or do something stupid. After she goes on and on for about two hours without me getting what she says, I would then assume that it’s my cue to elbow her in the face, The lingering pain in my elbow will definitely teach me a valuable lesson. Or two.

Drugs. Taking drugs is the answer to all the world’s problem! When I first consulted my psychiatrist about my Panic Attacks, she simply doped me up with Rivotril and I have been calm and docile as a pig on its way to a luau. I’m sure I could just admit myself into one of Colombia’s many drug labs and have them try all sorts of iniquitous (and hopefully sexual to some degree) tests on me. If I let them do it long enough, they’d probably stumble upon a miracle pill that cures stupidity. I figure that the worst that could happen is that I grow D cups and become Romanian. If that happens, I will simply wear sexy lingerie and get through life on my looks alone just like those FTV models do!

Killing myself. Sometimes I feel that only when I am presented by death with the wonderful opportunity of release can I truly be free from the ball and chain of idiocy. So let’s go sweet venom of my inevitable end! Romance me!

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