I want to congratulate the other runners up:
No Joke Now
Self Fellatin' For Breast Cancer Awareness
Does the Bloggy Bite?
But back to our winner. Why C Minus Minus, you don't ask? I'm glad you pretended to not ask. Back in the day, when I was in E210 and the epitome of grumpy bear, I had a professor by the name of Steven Schwartz
He was less than shall we say fond of my writing. In the workshop, he saved my story for last to discuss, and then raped it repeatedly with the ice-picked-head of Leon Trotsky. Which made no sense, but what does anymore in this workaday world? Now, admittedly, my story was extremely awful, juvenile, idiotic, racist, unfunny, and just bad, but the best part was the grade it earned.
Below is the last mimeograph* sheet with Herr Schwartz's chicken scribbles:
That's right: a C minus (wait for it)... minus. Work so time-space-continuum-annihilating that it needed TWO minuses to kill the fucker. But, wait, there's more. Climbing up the margin like a deadly vine, and with a big asterisk like a squashed bug right out of Kafka, was an additional note, just in case I missed the C--:
In other words: GET OUT. AND DIE.___________________________________________________
* Mimeographs were an old timey copying machine, sort of a cross between a typewriter and a Muppet.