Best Bum Practices Module 002

How to Steal a Backpack, you Idiot!

Module 001 Post Mortem

First, let's begin with a few minutes to absorb the lessons learned from way too recent events. We ran into a few problems in Module 001 which greatly interfered with our ability to apply proper BBP techniques. Let's review:

1. The fuckin automatic door!
2. Level of inebriation may have been tweaked a little above optimum. At best an ancillary issue, the primary failure was someone else's responsibility, as always.
3. Those fucking ”Creakers”. Where the fuck did they come from?

Okay, now flush these things completely from your memory (if you haven't already) because one thing a Bum never does is learn from their own or anyone else’s mistakes.

Ever!

Now, on with the new lesson plan:

Module 002, “How to steal a backpack, you idiot.”

I had a rough night, so you're all really lucky that I'm even here this morning at 2:40 in the afternoon. Normally, I'd be snuggled up in a filthy sleeping bag under a comfortable Army Corps of Engineers project, so you're all damn lucky to have me here.

STEP 1

It's going to be a long day, so let's begin with a smoke break. My head is still a little foggy from whatever particular chemical combo I imposed on my circulatory system last night, early this morning, and for breakfast about ten, no, make that eleven minutes ago. So, anyone got a smoke? Not a one of you? This must be the Honors class.

[Two hours and forty-five minutes later...]

STEP 2

Okay, that didn't go well. Who of you thought that a five foot four inch man in his eighties could throw a haymaker like that? I'm quite certain my jaw is broken in at least two places, and neither of them are good. How rude, yelling at me to “get a job” then to add insult to injury, he punched me while I was minding my own business rummaging through his pockets! Maybe, being the eleventh one to hit him up for a cigarette had something to do with his short ass fuse. Anyways, let's get back to the lesson… back to the lesson about (long pause) (class stares back equally blank) Definitely, the Honors class.

Fucking backpacks, you idiots!

STEP 3

If you all look behind you at your chairs you will notice something is missing. Clueless? The nine of you who owned them are missing your backpacks, which explained why I was the eleventh one out the door for the smoke break, you idiots!

STEP 4

Eject! Eject! Eject! Yourself from the classroom and run your ass off towards the door. Run! Fucking run! You're almost  there, man, almost there. Look back to make sure those backpacless bastards aren't in pursuit. They sure as hell are. Consider that carrying nine backpacks may be too many too… fucking late.

MIS-STEP 5

Take many, many, many blows, kicks, and a couple dislocations. Possibly one more broken bone, not a good one either. Eat some dirt mixed with vomit. Beef stew vomit. Bleed.

(Wail!)

Regain consciousness.

(Whimper!)

Educator's Syllabus Note: Get a head start next year before STEP 4.

(Purge All Educator's Syllabus Notes from Memory)

STEP 6

Crawl into a filthy sleeping bag under a comfortable Army Corps of Engineers project, you're damn lucky to be alive.

Recover, painfully.

STEP 7

Wake up to wracking withdrawal symptoms. Casually, grab the nearest bum's backpack.

Mission Accomplished!

STEP 8

Eject! Eject! Eject! Yourself from under the Army Corps of Engineers project and run your ass off towards the… towards the… Away. Run! Fucking run! You're almost  there, man, almost where?… Away, you idiot! Look back to make sure that backpacless bum bastard isn't in pursuit. He sure as hell is a fast one. Consider that you may be getting another beating way too… fucking soon.

STEP 9

Return to MIS-STEP 5.

STEP 10

Rinse, Lather, Repeat.

STEP 11

Consider that any idiot can steal a backpack, but it takes a fucking genius to keep one. Immediately flush that though from your memory. What thought? Yes, definitely the honors program.

STEP 12

Go check the Ace Hardware dumpster for broken jars of rubber cement.

Next…

Module 003: How to enjoy a weak end with inhalants (and weird animals).

Whoop, whizzle, oh, whoop, whaa, whoo...
Yeah, man, I could be President, too.You and me, Mr. Wubba, we're going to Washington DC.