Out of all the majors that require copious amounts of reading and learning things that will be worthless after college, history has to be at the top of the list. You can only impress a girl for so long with useless facts about the French Revolution until you sound arrogant and boring. It won’t be long before she loses interest and her attention shifts to some guy that could care less if those French pussies rebelled against their government or whether or not that “let them eat cake” quote is fake news. Meanwhile, you’re left with your dick in your hand and a bunch of futile information that will never get you laid in your brain. If you are dumb enough to choose to be a history major, it is likely for one of three reasons:
1. You leave parties at 10 P.M. and go back to your shithole apartment to get stoned off your ass because your pot dealer, Seth, says he has “the dankest dank he’s ever smoked.” In the middle of your bake sesh, Seth flips on the History Channel and you proceed to watch some dogshit documentary on the Civil War while elbow deep in a box of Cheese Nips — because Cheez-Its are too conformist for you. While watching, you notice a bunch of pompous shit sticks giving their bonehead opinions about whether or not Robert E. Lee was left-handed and you think, “Shit, I could do that.”
2. You took a U.S. history class in high school and noticed how much ass America kicked in wars. Not only that, but your 34-year-old bro of a history teacher gave you daps when he saw you in the hallway and called you “boss.” You thought to yourself, This guy fucks, I want to be just like him when I’m his age. Wrong. Odds are this super rad teacher of yours peaked when he was in high school, and by the time he was in college, he realized how much of a useless jizz rag he was — leading him to re-open the yearbook and start chasing his dream of being homecoming king once again by returning to high school.
3. In middle school, you spent 6 months in 7th grade quarantined in your house perfecting your exhibit on the Black Death for the National History Day competition. You managed to pull out a second place finish, but once you returned back to after-school social gatherings, you (ironically) turned into a walking bubonic plague; every time you spoke, it was about some irrelevant fact about the Black Death that no one gave two shits about and it scared people away. Any social skills you had left were focused on becoming best friends with randos on Omegle, and your weekends consisted of reading history textbooks to your three-legged pet hamster, Ralphie. By the time you hit high school, you were jerking off to Google images of Marie Antoinette and calling sex hotlines claiming you were George Washington looking for your Martha so you could give her a muff splinter with your wooden teeth. It was then that you decided you’d devote the rest of your life learning everything there was to know about history on account of your future looking very bleak.
If you’re still reading this and thinking to yourself, “I’m a history major and none of these scenarios relate to me,” then you’re probably just a pussy who has read one too many historical fiction books and isn’t smart enough to pursue a major that has any value..
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