The Cast & Constants of a Community College Classroom
Embarking on semester numero dos at the local “Harvard on the Hill” aka College of San Mateo I have become more and more saturated and seasoned with the culture and atmosphere of a community college. Throughout this saturation / seasoning process I have become acquainted and aware of many of the different stereotypical people who inhabit the same classrooms and auditoriums I. I share them with you now:
The Raging Dumbass (douschebagitus-tardspazis)
Sometimes known as the compulsive hand-raiser, this lil fella can be observed leaning over and repeatedly asking his fellow classmate for help something or perhaps me may simply remarking on the presence of trees outside. Raging Dumbass is the reason why teachers take forever to explain their grading policies. Raging dumbass is the person who believes whole heatedly that he/she is the only student in class, therefore, when the teacher asks a rhetorical question, Raging dumbass feels more than obligated to offer a less than revelant answer. Raging Dumbass is the Rod Farva of community college.
Hyphy Squad ( macdrewannabea – speakerblownicus )
Next on the menu we have the Hyphy Squad. You assholes come in early just to occupy the nosebleed section of the auditorium, roughly 100% of you jerkoffs have the backpacks with the built-in speakers that sound like rhino ass blaring “That Go” on repeat. Your all loud. I know it’s hard to stay thuggin when teach is spittin bars about functions and exponents n shit. Thank god for the fusion of keek da sneak and jansport backpacks. Yee bitch.
Overworked, Over-Caffeinated Foreign Math Teacher w/ Tourette’s Syndrome (spazicus-manicuz)
God bless you man, your knowledge and understanding of elementary algebra is commendable, the same goes for your uncontrollable urge to spaz out and clear your throat and bat your chest with your wrist watch. You work at three different community colleges teaching eight classes during the week, you stumble into class everyday like the fuckin Tasmanian devil on crack. I have never seen you without big gulp-sized coffee in your mitt nor have I seen you exhale. You sir are a spazicus-manicuz. Good day sir
I Killed Young Buck
Here I sit rideless with my thumb up my ass, tried to drive to the gym and ended up with a deer fallin on top of me and a head full of glass. Allow me to elaborate: Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, roughly 4:30 in the P.M. I was cruisin over to the gym for some preemptive turkey calorie burning…For the locals reading I will note that I was traveling down 92 heading towards Foster City. In the corner of my eye I spotted a long deer tryin to pull a frogger across 4 lanes of near rush hour traffic at which moment a sudden seizure of respiratory action took place. All I could do was watch the poor guy get past 2.5 lanes and the center divide before a SUV hit him at full speed sending him airborne with a downward trajectory aimed right at me, I down shifted hard and braked swerving into the shoulder closing my eyelids tight anticipating a forceful impact. It came. I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911 and with that I was notified that “Currently all emergency operators are helping others and to stay on the line”… (ya kthxbye) I opened my eyes and immediately became overwhelmed with the amount of glass and deer hair that had lodged itself in every conceivable nook and cranny of my former vehicle.
I stepped out of the car, a bit shaken to say the least and went over to the deer which was very still but still writhing in pain. I said my words and made my peace with him right before a member of San Mateo’s finest put 2 in the peaceful creatures cranium. I’ve always a longstanding appreciation for deer and having one shatter my windshield, put a whole in my hood, and dent both front panels makes me think no less upon the species. I am very sorry for the deer and very lucky that Highway Crew didn’t have venison and white irish meat to clean up.
Aftermath: Engine saw no damage and remains the most valuable asset to the car itself with barely 82,000 original miles on a 13 year old car. With the windshield gone you could almost call it a fucked up convertible of sorts with a built in glass propelling heating system.
I got checked out by the Firefighters / EMT’s and suffered only mildshock and a new glassy finish from head to wiener. My pops extracted enough glass from my scalp to blow a god damn shotglass but sadly I received no scars I could invoke pity lays with :(. FTL overall. FTL
Borat! “Is a NICE!”
I want to thank the Century 12 movie theater for letting me pay the ten bucks to see Borat : Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan or B.C.L.O.A.F.M.B.G.N.O.K as I like to call it for short. I had relatively high hopes for this flick given the abundance of manthongs, liphair, and incestuous behavior among foreigners seen in the trailer. Saying I was not let down would be an understatement. Borat succeeds at offending gays, jews, women, and of course his native Kazakhstani people. I don’t wanna ruin this epic piece of cinematic excellence for you but I must allude to the climactic moment in which two main characters duke it out in a skin on skin, lava-lamp like exchange of pushes and thrusts. This scene I speak of was what brought me to my enlightenment of funniness. Never before have I felt my inner organs on the verge of rupture on account of my violent laughter/convulsions. My only gripe with this instant classic is the hairy cock to breast ratio which I can approximate to roughly 6:0. Aside from obvious lack of T&A I will supply this movie with the seldom seen 4/4 tits rating:
And now for some memorable quotes from the movie:
“I am very strong physique and I can hold a very large woman down for 3 hours…I am strong, I can throw rock at a gypsy from 15 metres. 10 metre if I am chained up.”
“This my neighbor, Nursultan Tuleiakbay. He is pain in my assholes. I get a window from a glass, he must get a window from a glass. I get a step, he must get a step. I get a clock-radio, he cannot afford. Great success.”
“My mother, she never love me. (Stifled chuckle) She say she wish she was raped by someone else.”
“In my country we say to let a woman drive a car is like to let a monkey fly a plane, very dangerous yes.”
Random Access Memory
CK Wong Photography
Joes Shots
DD
EDI
Prig
Snoogins
Todd Morisson