I Won The Spelling Bee In Eighth Grade; I'm Destined For Greatness

The greatest athletes and entertainers knew from a very distinct point in life that they were going to be great. Quarterbacks often go back to a pee-wee league game in which they threw for 500 yards. Actors after they were the lead in 'Annie' in high school. But my moment of truth occurred in 2002. It was a crisp, cool afternoon in February. The atmosphere seemed to revolve around me for the first time. I knew going into this day, that I was going to dominate my fellow classmates for the umpteenth time. The rest as you might say is history.

Growing up, I used to watch the Scripps National Spelling Bee on ESPN because they clearly only show masculine, sports-related programming. Spelling bees are THE definition of sports. It takes a sharp mind and impeccable demeanor to capture the greatest prize in the game. Despite the fact that I didn't compete in the National Bee, I came pretty close by winning the school bee. Let me paint a picture for you.

My class contained 12 students, including myself. Two of them were girls, and I'm pretty sure three of them were immigrants. I immediately have five people eliminated from the competition. It didn't make matters much better that my teacher had no idea how to run the competition either. Regardless, the odds were in my favor. So one by one we took our turn spelling words. There goes one immigrant, one girl, another immigrant, and then another. My prediction was coming to fruition by the second. Call me Nostradamus. My greatest challenge to victory was my cockiness. But is it really being cocky when you know you're that good? That isn't hypothetical. Is it?

Naturally, I won the Spelling Bee. And do you know what word I won with? Mind you this is eighth grade, not third. Brace yourself. Ready?......Icicle. I won the school spelling bee by correctly spelling I-C-I-C-L-E. Now, I know I'm a pretty smart guy. As far as I can tell however, it was not because of the Catholic school education I was receiving. I think I was just supplied with a big fucking brain and an absurdly impressive memory. Eighth grade spelling bee and I won by spelling icicle. How do you think the other kids in that class fared? The ones who weren't so bright? I don't know because I don't speak to any of them. For the three of them who might be reading this, I obviously am not talking about you. But that shouldn't matter because I still won.

2002 marked the beginning of a destiny. A fate that would see me begin to make my mark on the world. I conquered New Jersey. I fucked Virginia right in the butt, without KY Jelly. The possibilites are endless. That February afternoon marked the beginning of a dynasty that will never be taken over. That is until I supply the world with some of my offspring. Frankenstein Scooter and James Skeeter. Those names are trademarked for my next of kin, don't even think about naming your stupid kids such eloquent identifiers. Because all that will do is prove my greatness and as the saying goes, "I am better than you."