Whinin' About School

Remember this moron? Well, today he was limping. He asked the teaching assistant several questions about the homework while he some folks were finishing up their quizzes, which is fine. Then he made a big scene out of using the chalk tray that hangs off the black board (yes, I said black board, not chalk board; it's descriptive, not derogatory, you politically correct half wits) and the front table to prop himself up. Then he proceeded to describe the amount of medications he's taken in the past day or something for some back problem he's got; as if the teaching assistant, who he'd already corrected once that day, cares in the least about his stupid back problem and why he's gimping it up. Did she ask? No. So keep your mouth shut, you oxygen-wasting gomer.

Yesterday in my biology lab, we had a section on urine. What did they give us for this? You guessed it: actual urine. Five vials of it. When I realized this, the following public exchange took place between me and my teaching assistant:

Fly: So wait, we're using actual urine in this lab?
TA: Yes.
Fly: (Quoting Uncle Jimbo) That's disgusting!
Class: *squirrely laughter*

As if the other four months of asinine stupidity didn't prove that the professor and the lab coordinator (who I swear are either both homosexuals, or are covertly having wild, passionate, hedonistic, out-of-wedlock biologist sex on a regular basis) are out of their damn minds, this most certainly did. Real urine, in a freshman level lab.

Welcome to my nightmare.