Letters to my Classmates part 2

Dear Silent Asian boy (yes I did call you boy. You must be over 100 pounds to be a man):

I've never heard you speak, but I'm not sure I want to after seeing that hello kitty key chain on your backpack. Every time I see you I have this urge to bake all kinds of deserts. And I don't even know how to bake!! I just want to feed you pie and cheesecake and brownies and pudding. You need some meat and potatoes. Mashed, baked, chopped, boiled, fried, anyway you want! Just eat something. please. Food is so delicious, how have you resisted it your whole life? Now I would be slightly more understanding, if you were to reveal that you really ARE 12, and all prepubescent boys are this size. But sadly I think I'll be waiting a long time for that answer.

-Girl with all the baked goods behind you

Letters to my Classmates Part 1

Dear Dirty Hippie boy: (no, your scarf and jewelry don't project an image of confidence, it screams masculinity crisis)

When you bob your head to the tune of the socialist feminist masquerading as teacher in our class it makes me want to scream. Your ugly ponytail and Birkenstocks don't disguise the empty space in your head where rationality and a sense of patriotism should reside. Next time you bring hemp milk or soy tea to class, I might just dump it on your organic recycled notebook. And since you limit yourself to only responding in a 100% politically correct manner, your comments in class are blatant evidence of your brainwashed and unoriginal identity. Learn to think for yourself and maybe you will find that something intelligent will come out of your mouth.

-The conservative girl sharpening a knife behind you

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