son of a gun
I’m a real son of a gun and I have some friends, but my friends hardly like me, they hate me instead. They play cruel jokes on me and pin me to the wall. they beat me with a bat and hit me with a bowling ball. They put stickers on my back and make me wear custom name tags that say “NERD” in bold letters. It makes me sad but I can’t take it off because it gives my life meaning and a purpose. I’m really hungry now so I think I’ll go and get made fun of some more.
