Not Listening

I am jumping out the window, I guess this means I’m a defenestrator. I’ll put some pads or something on my knees, balled up comic books or something, and throw myself out the window. It sounds way more difficult than it is, like most things I guess. Not that I know much about most things, anything really, but just to be on the safe side I guess pretending you know something is good, at least not too bad. In the long run most things aren’t worth knowing, so knowing anything isn’t all it’s made out to be, not by a long shot. My grandmamma thinks she knows lots of things but doesn’t; she just pretends she knows things then tells me that if I disagree with her I’m not listening. I don’t listen because I don’t want to, plain and simple. Anyhow listening isn’t such a big treat, I mean you have to listen to a lot of crappy stuff which in the long run is just plain stupid. My grandmamma used to clean out my ears with a bobby-pin, scraping out all the built up wax, the stuff that makes it hard for a little kid to listen even when he doesn’t want to, which I didn’t. I knew this one kid, an albino, who had so much wax in his ears it used to dribble out onto his shirt collar; it was sickening as all get out. I thought having red eyes and white hair was bad, but the wax, man that was the real killer, all dried and crumbly and flaky, and on his shirt collar for Christ sakes. My granddad, he had horrible dandruff, but at least he wore a white shirt for God sakes.