Did I ever tell you I’m a genius?

I am quite firm in my belief that all an IQ test proves is the taker’s ability to, um, take an IQ test.

That said, my score was the second highest in my sixth grade class. The highest score went to my mortal enemy, Jory Serota, who was probably a pretty nice kid now that I think about it. Also, I may be spelling his name wrong. But wouldn’t it be cool if I wasn’t, and he googles himself? Hi, Jory! We totally went to elementary school together, and you have a slightly higher IQ than I do (I think).

Anyway, my IQ is somewhere in the vicinity of genius. It’s not like I’m Rex Stout or something, but I’m not exactly stupid. (Like I said, I don’t think an IQ test proves anything worthwhile, but I’m pretty damn smart in other ways too.)


One of my favorite debate techniques (and I hope my sarcasm comes through the keyboard here) is when a person just repeats his or her arguments over and over again, rewording them and using bigger, fancier words each time. I AM ON TO YOU PEOPLE. You think you can frighten me away with your two dollar words. You think that I am some shrinking flower who, faced with your obvious intellectual superiority, will give up without ever realizing that your argument is REALLY FUCKING STUPID.

Well, guess what. I know what I’m talking about. You don’t seem to have a clue. I know the difference between opinion and fact. And I know, without a doubt, that you should just shut the hell up.

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