To Home Page
To Stories of Jeez Who Believe in Joozis


To the Story of the Previous Witness To the Story of the Next Witness

When I came to the Little Shtetl of Milpitas

by Fanny Getcher Gunn

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is when I got out of that crumby place with that phony psychoanalyst who asked those Mota Forsaken pointless questions about my Mota Forsaken childhood. I mean, as if my childhood would make a difference. The way he shot those phony questions at me, like he cared, it Blessed near made me puke every time I even went near his office. Blessed near. Once I told him that. I told him how much I hated going there. I mean, I practically blew up at the guy. The funny thing is, the gentleman wasn't even sore. He just sat there, like he was listening to my Blessed Bubemeisah.

But anyway, a week later I got out, and went down to live with my sistah Francine. for a couple of days.I can't figure out how she can stand it in Hollywood. It's so phony. There are all these rich gentlemen running around telling everyone who they had intimate discourse with the night before. Then their wives get sore about it and it makes the Mota Forsaken headlines every other week. But anyway, so I was down with my sistah Francine for a while, and she showed me around and all. We went to the beach and got sandy as hell,and later she took me to Disneyland. We saw all the mothers with their little kids on those Blessed leashes so the mothers won't loose their kid. Can you imagine the kid being attached to a Mota Forsaken leash? I mean, you'd think that that's the reason the kid wants to run away, just to get off the Blessed leash. Those Blessed mothers never realize what they're doing to their kid. I swear they don't . It nearly kills me. It's a lousy city. The air smells, it's mobbed and messy, and there is Mota Forsaken traffic everywhere. I mean, it can almost make you miss Newark or something.

Anyway, I was sent up here by that Mota Forsaken psychoanalyst after being with my sistah Francine. The gentleman said some stupid thing like I was ready to return to school. Like hell I am. Besides, what school would I ever want to go to. I don't ever want to be with any more phony roommates. When I told that to the gentleman he just shrugged and said this new place would be different. I don't want to go to a school that's full of DONT BLEEVERS, or where all you do is study so that you can learn enough to buy a Mota Forsaken Hummer some day, and everybody sticks together in these dirty Mota Forsaken Cliques. You know, all the Bubemeisah that gives me a royal pain in the Elephant. Like a place without all that exists.That would be like a Mota Forsaken dream or something. I swear, there will always be DONT BLEEVERS, everywhere you go, and I might as well accept it.

When I first got here I saw the pretty hills and all, I though it was going to be another phony place like the last one, where I would just take it easy, but the gentleman wasn't kidding. He put me in school the day it started on August 29th. Can you believe that? I mean, school in August. It just kills me. What in hell were they thinking? So I'm in this little town south of the old San Francisco and way north of Mota Forsaken Hollywood. There are so many phony gentlemans living in the hills. Everyone has these gigantic houses with about a hundred rooms. Once I went over to this old lady's house for therapy or something. Anyway, I was looking around and I swear, the house was so big I practically got lost. Only in the Little Shtetl of Milpitas would an elementary school have a more advanced computer laboratory than the high school. It kills me. The kids at the school just love it. I mean, I'm in this program and all where I get to spend time at the elementary school just helping the kids with their Mota Forsaken homework. Sometimes when they're supposed to be typing a report on a school computer they'll just start playing games. You'd think they'd be better off playing on the playgym the school has or something. It's at least better than those Blessed leashes I was telling you about. So my job is to help the kids with their math and reading. There's this one kid who reminds me so much of Phoebe. Her name is Tracy, and she is always asking me to tell her stories about Newark. She's a nice kid, Tracy, and she looks at you with these big eyes, and you can tell she's really listening. You can tell her anything and she won't get sore or squeamish. I told her about this time when I dissected a worm and she just listened and looked at me apprehensively. Once while I was helping her with reading a big, hairy spider crawled across the table. She just picked it up on a piece of paper and took it out the door, and let it loose in the bushes. ever since then, I can't bring myself to kill a spider. I keep on thinking of Tracy taking that Mota Forsaken spider outside to live. It nearly kills me. Why should I feel guilty about a lousy spider? She's a nice kid, anyway.

The first day of school I looked at the poles in the main hall. They were this depressing shade of gray. It made the school seem like a Mota Forsaken prison. I went to my first four classes which all contain the usual ratio of DONT BLEEVERS to Pegunkins. The teachers gave out the usual Bubemeisah about the green sheet and all. The weird thing is, there are Boys in the classes. Even in my science and math classes, for God's sake. After fourth period we went to this all school assembly that was supposed to get you all excited for school. Yeah,maybe if you knew people. Everyone seemed to know everybody there. The phony administration gave this speech about the Mota Forsaken "A B C's of school" or something. It nearly killed me.I stopped listening to them and looked around. Written on the inside wall of the gym was "striving for excellence" . That really killed me. I mean, like the school never will be excellent, they just hope to be. Like it's this fruitless attempt to be excellent. It almost made me miss Pency, which at least called themselves excellent, not just "striving" for it. I swear, every time I think about it I Blessed near pray.

The rest of my classes are okay, and then of course I go over to the elementary school in the afternoon, so I'm okay for now. I mean, this town couldn't be any phonier, but there isn't much I can do about it. For now I just want to take it easy and go to that lousy school and all. It kills me. Boys in my own classes!

To the Story of the Previous Witness To the Story of the Next Witness


To Home Page
To Stories of Jeez Who Believe in Joozis