Hello, men. Everybody studying
for their goddamn exams?
Hey, Buzz, how'd it go
with that Dee-Dee chick?
She's got some bod,
you have to admit.
Charlene isn't bad,
either, though, right?
Like wow!
Hines!
You swine, old buddy pig!
You groove behind Alvina,
get some kicks tonight?
Bastards.
You'd think the goddamn exams...
was the be-all and end-all
of existence...
cosmic life force
or something.
You'd think they were
the frigging fugitives.
Can't even get in
a few decent words to a guy.
Bastards.
What a bore,
they just sit there...
and take bennies
and stay up all night...
with their face stuck
in a bunch of books...
and their thumb up their ass.
Yes, yes,
I remember the time...
when it was all very inspiring
and enlightening...
all this history and literature
and sociology shit.
You think learning
is a really big thing...
and you become
this big fucking intellectual...
and sit around trying
to out-intellectual...
all the other big
fucking intellectuals.
You spend years and years...
with your nose buried
in these goddamn tomes...
while the world
is passing you by.
All the stuff to see...
and all the kicks...
and all the girls
are out there.
And me, a writer!
And a poet who should be
having adventures...
and experiencing
all the diversities...
and paradoxes
and ironies of life...
and passing over
all the roads of the world!
And digging all the cities
and towns and rivers...
and the oceans and...
making all of them chicks.
Oh, God.
As a writer and a poet...
it is my duty to get out there
and dig the world...
to swim in
the whole frigging scene...
while there is
still time, man.
My farting around days
are over, baby.
From this day on, I shall live
every day as if it was my last.
I must do it!
No more of the dreary,
boring classes...
dismal lectures,
sitting around bullshitting..
with pretentious
fat-ass hippies.
No more of the books...
the spoutings of
a bunch of old farts...
who think they know
the whole goddamn score.
Oh, my God, what have I done?
I set all my notes
and books on fire...
and now I can't study
for my exams.
I'll flunk out,
and my folks will be pissed off.
I'll get a blanket.
The blanket's on fire.
We better call
the fire department.
(Fritz the Cat - Ralph Bakshi)