Dis Monologue Is A Fat Joke Of A Thang, JK i loved writing this BS :D

Young Cubba-lubba, By Xavier Garcia

I walked into this semester a black bear.  A very, light-skinned, black bear.

As a  young cub, left by his momma bear to fight for his life against other cubs, I walked into Bearuch University with the goal of not dying to the hands of a baller bear.

The other cubs were pretty hardcore, and they came from all over the world to fight as well.

Going in feeling like a wuss, I shunned everyone around me so that they didn’t know how unequipped I was to fight other cubs.

I began to work hard so that I could slap other cubs in the face with my epicness.  My bear teachers didn’t really understand where I was coming from, and thought that maybe I was just a weird cub.

Then they saw my potential as a pro-status cub, and other cubs began to befriend me because I was owning other cubs in the arena.

I enjoyed my status as the well-liked cub, but I knew my status would be lost as soon as I began to show my realness.   So I withheld my true insanity and acted as calm as an energetic young cub could.

Time began to pass faster and faster.  I began losing control of my ability to stabilize my wild cub thoughts.  During one of the lessons from a bear teacher, my broken cub brain started to break-down.  It was like mini-nuclear bombs were going off in my hairy head.  I thought I was going to die from being dumb.

But an angel arrived from the heavens.  One of the chillest cubs I’ve ever met ended up in my classes.  He was a boss, because he understood my insanity and could match my awkwardness with his own crazy bear activities.

Even though he was a cub from a far land that I didn’t know about, he was exactly like me in so many ways.  I tried not to be weird around him.  We just ended up being hilarious around each other, while the other cubs just looked and didn’t get it.

Unfortunately, my fun would only last until my teachers began to give me less and less accolades; as the steam from my initial awesomeness in classes cooled off more and more.

But a cub with a bro-cub just feels more and more powerful.  And as a cub with a dream, I hope to brawl my way to the top, while helping other cubs who felt lost like I did to be the best they can.  This semester I’ve learned that being a young cub doesn’t really matter.  What matters is how tough you can be, both mentally and physically, and how winning only takes teamwork and sexy effort; like a bear.