It's been yet another long stretch since I've blessed you all with the brilliant things I have to say. Let me start first by saying that I wanted so badly to write about my current life surrounded by women (yet failing miserably to wife any), but after writing two pieces inappropriate to publish, I realized I would only get myself into trouble because my idea of what's sexist and what's not happens to differ greatly from that of particular young women. Rest easy, however, for something good ought to surface maybe once I'm across the Pacific this winter. The point of this little nugget for your reading pleasure is this: I've forgotten all the pleasures and pains of school.
I'll be perfectly honest, in the years past, i've generally looked forward to the start of the new school year. Not this year. I slept like a baby the night before last with a total lack of anxiety - probably the last time for a few months. Pleasures, you ask? Well there aren't many, and I'm talking specifically of the simple pleasure of scopin out hot chicks that happen to be scampering about campus. And it's not just, oh look there, a good-looking young lady, it's a more in-depth analysis that just looks like blankness on our faces, maybe a smile if I'm sharing the view with a bro. Or tryin to EF (eye fuck, yaddadai?!). The mindful analysis goes something like this: Interesting outfit, love the Lulus. HATE those boots. That belt is way too big. Lip gloss needs a come back, Why bigass sunglasses in the rain? etc... until dirty thoughts inevitably come around and make themselves heard if in the company of a bro.
Now the pain, which is something everyone, all of you, can relate to. Your professor's boring, too much reading, and so on. But what REALLY grind my gears is That Guy.
That Guy is usually a taller, average weight, white male. He thinks the words coming out of his mouth are liquid gold and everyone around should fucking shower in them. He's the guy who asks the professor or TA, usually TA, the first of many stupid questions to come. He thinks he can answer questions impeccably, and often tries faking interest in the hot girl who shared that she worked in an office somewhere in Jalalabad. Bro, you don't even know where that is, stfu. And even worse is when That Guy has a bro in the class. It's as if this guy provides some sense of security or confidence for That Guy causing him to hesitate even less when saying something completely assholish. The worst part? Half the time these assholes get grouped with the only hot girl in the section, and I'm left with some Asian guy that has tourette's syndrome. That Guy can be a freshmen. These think: Hey I was hot shit in high school... so that like, transfers... right? Fuck it, sure it does! I'm fuckin awesome! and that's the thought process before That Douchebag opens his mouth. The worst is a room with three or even four of these people. They could be at opposite corners of the room, yet it only takes one mouthful of shit to start a whole downpour of crap.
That 1 Guy:
That 2nd Guy: Oh, yeah, blah blah blah,
That 3rd Guy (and this one's the worst because he ACTUALLY knows his shit and he's just a showoff): Well, actually guys, it was the president of Turkmenistan who built a spinning gold statue of himself.
And I'm sitting there looking around at the students around me like, Are you guys watching, listening, to this clusterfuck of stupid shit?! And that's when I generally let out a deep, agonizing sigh, and depending on the setup and numbers, a "douchebag" under my breath but loud enough for a nice semicircle of people to hear nearby. This is usually met by nods and grins of agreement. One girl even turned around and let me know she concurred.
Little did she know... she was agreeing with an Asshole.
I'll be perfectly honest, in the years past, i've generally looked forward to the start of the new school year. Not this year. I slept like a baby the night before last with a total lack of anxiety - probably the last time for a few months. Pleasures, you ask? Well there aren't many, and I'm talking specifically of the simple pleasure of scopin out hot chicks that happen to be scampering about campus. And it's not just, oh look there, a good-looking young lady, it's a more in-depth analysis that just looks like blankness on our faces, maybe a smile if I'm sharing the view with a bro. Or tryin to EF (eye fuck, yaddadai?!). The mindful analysis goes something like this: Interesting outfit, love the Lulus. HATE those boots. That belt is way too big. Lip gloss needs a come back, Why bigass sunglasses in the rain? etc... until dirty thoughts inevitably come around and make themselves heard if in the company of a bro.
Now the pain, which is something everyone, all of you, can relate to. Your professor's boring, too much reading, and so on. But what REALLY grind my gears is That Guy.
That Guy is usually a taller, average weight, white male. He thinks the words coming out of his mouth are liquid gold and everyone around should fucking shower in them. He's the guy who asks the professor or TA, usually TA, the first of many stupid questions to come. He thinks he can answer questions impeccably, and often tries faking interest in the hot girl who shared that she worked in an office somewhere in Jalalabad. Bro, you don't even know where that is, stfu. And even worse is when That Guy has a bro in the class. It's as if this guy provides some sense of security or confidence for That Guy causing him to hesitate even less when saying something completely assholish. The worst part? Half the time these assholes get grouped with the only hot girl in the section, and I'm left with some Asian guy that has tourette's syndrome. That Guy can be a freshmen. These think: Hey I was hot shit in high school... so that like, transfers... right? Fuck it, sure it does! I'm fuckin awesome! and that's the thought process before That Douchebag opens his mouth. The worst is a room with three or even four of these people. They could be at opposite corners of the room, yet it only takes one mouthful of shit to start a whole downpour of crap.
That 1 Guy:
That 2nd Guy: Oh, yeah, blah blah blah,
That 3rd Guy (and this one's the worst because he ACTUALLY knows his shit and he's just a showoff): Well, actually guys, it was the president of Turkmenistan who built a spinning gold statue of himself.
And I'm sitting there looking around at the students around me like, Are you guys watching, listening, to this clusterfuck of stupid shit?! And that's when I generally let out a deep, agonizing sigh, and depending on the setup and numbers, a "douchebag" under my breath but loud enough for a nice semicircle of people to hear nearby. This is usually met by nods and grins of agreement. One girl even turned around and let me know she concurred.
Little did she know... she was agreeing with an Asshole.
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