When I was younger I went to this Intellect Center more or less every Sunday from 10AM - 1PM for 5 years straight. In this place there were numerous "groups" ranging in, though the owner would not like to admit, smartness, of course with such a range of vocabulary as I just showed (comon, who can beat smartness?) I was obviously placed in the smartest group (because really if I wasn't would I ever tell you this story?). The group consisted of about 5 - 9 people with a good 3,4 of whom I knew incredibly well. For the last 2 years I have not went there and, to my knowledge, neither have any of my friends.

Then this Monday I get a call from the owner stating that because it is the 10th Annversary of the Intellect Center he is inviting back, this Saturday, all of his best students. I remembered when the 5 year annversary took place. I had only recently begun going there but I distinctly remember whooping the asses of all of the "older" people who had already left the center. I felt (as I should of) so proud. Now thinking back on this moment I am scared to death because I know that when the time comes (tomorrow) we are all going to get intellectually raped by those who are numerous years younger then us...ohh what an embarrasment it will be. I quickly call all of my friends to see if they are going, thinking either maybe with enough brain power we can win or at least I won't look like the only complete and utter dipshit there. Thankfully, or so they said to me, most of them are coming, so at least we will look like idiots together (somehow that makes it seem alright).

When it just premiered I watched "Are You Not Dumberer than a Mentally Retarded Chimp with Alkhimers?" laughing at the idiots on stage thinking, god how do you not know that 4 is the next number after 3. Now that I think about it, I have to admit, that though I might not be dumberer now by the time I am become elligiable to go onto the show I am almost certain that I will also be "not smarter than a 5th grader" (ohh look at that I remembered the title).



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