>Well, today is Monday.
    >MEEP. MEEP. MEEP.
    "MY FUCKING EARS!"
    >That was exactly what you said when you realize it's 10:00 AM.
    >Anon, You fucktard.
    >You're late for school.
    >Lets get cracking.
 
    >Be Anon.
    >Be Canterlot High senior Fag.
    >You can finally leave this shit hole of a school.
    >However, it wasn't that big of a shit hole.
    >You still had friends and guys that you chilled with.
 
    >Well fuck, you were late for the third week of school.
    >You pull the sheets off of your bed, tear your boxers off.
    >Running to the shower and nearly slipping.
    >You get in the shower and hit it to hot.
    >AH! FUCKING COLD!
    >AH! FUCKING HOT!
    >AH! FUCKING PERFECT!
    >Quickly, you scrub yourself, making sure the get in between the ass cheeks, the nut sack and behind the ears.
    >Finishing up you exit the shower and get dressed
    >Damn, it felt good to have your ass in laundry that was a week old.
    >You quickly pull on some clothes. Fuck it. if you were gonna be late, might as well come in style.
    >You grab a fresh suit.
    >A nice black suit, with a white undershirt, and a blood red tie.
    >Nice.
    >You throw some waffles in the toaster and get some syrup.
    >As as your breakfast finishes, the time is 10:20.
    >First period is over.
    >Welp, fuck it!
    >You walk out the door and start walking to the school.
 
    >Canterlot high was a public school.
>First period was foods.
>You missed your secondary brekfast.
>On the good side you weren't going to have to get bossed around by the switz-loving teacher.
>your house was a good 20 minutes away from the school. If you walked.
>Like you would ever walk.
>You hop on your bike and start peddling.
>Fuck helmets.
>What were you? a Faggot?
>You peddle your ass to school.
 
>You arrive at your school, locking your bike at the parking lot.
>Hoping off your bike, you straighten your tie.
>Damn it felt good to be a senior.
 
>You make your way to second period class.
>Math.
>Shit nigga.
>You dislike math, not hate.
>The only reason you didn't drench every fucking textbook you saw was because,
>A. It's fucking useful
>B. You can't get a decent job with out good English or math marks.
 
>You enter the class room, standing there is Miss. Cheerlie.
>Sweet fucking Slavic jesus.
>class had not started yet.
>You head toward your seat.
>Only then you realized the person who sat the seat beside you.
>Rainbow.
>Fucking.
>Dash.