As we wind down another semester in my "absolutely-less-than-normal" college career, I've been reminded that I haven't written any stories in a while. Quite frankly, this is not because I don't have stories. I've got stories. Stories and lack of motivation to do schoolwork are two things I'm full of these days. Mostly, because I've really enjoyed the semester here. I actually had fun, which is good because despite what I tell people I'm really trying not to attend every school in the Big 12 before my college career is over. (However, the first thing that came up when I searched Baylor was a picture of their cheerleaders and I can without a doubt say that if I'm switching schools it's absolutely without a question going to be to Baylor. Good God.)
But most importantly (because let's be real, no one cares that I'm an idiot and can't chose a school) I've got stories. Some that I can't write, some that I'll change names (false, I'm not changing names, actually I might I don't really know yet) but I have stories. I'm not really sure how I'm going to do this probably some mini stories, a few bullet points maybe a drawing of some events but hey we'll figure it out as we go. Before we start though just be aware that the following includes: friends and I taking the Big 12 QB of the Year to the ER, my inability to hop fences and an arrest for the sale of crack cocaine and prostitution. (You know that game two truths and a lie? One of the previous statements is a lie, I'll give you a hint, the crack one is true. Which at this point I also need to say Mom is you're reading this, um, sorry....)
Anyway without further ado....
I've been at Kansas now for four months and quite frankly I've loved every minute of it. That's a lie, not every minute. Spending a night in a Lawrence jail on Class C felony drugs charges aren't cool. (Right now, I've also got at least one person wondering if this whole crack cocaine incident actually happened. That's all I need. More on this later.)
One thing I learned while being in the middle of Kansas is that it's better than Columbia. I mean I suppose that's a given. Another thing I learned is that some people need GPS collars when attending college.
Meet Gordon (named changed on the account that Gordon's a sweet name), I have two stories I'm going to tell you about Gordon who's one of my best friends here. The first involves a cold January night at a house party on Alabama Street. For the 3.5 people reading this who don't know where Alabama Street is just use your imagination or Google Earth that shit. That's what creepy technology is for.
Anyway it's about, I don't know, we'll say 12:30 am and Stu Reeves and I (name changed again because the name Stu sucks but the name Reeves would be so cool as a first name) and I are walking home with Gordon. Keep in mind it's January in the midwest so there's four inches of snow on the ground. Reeves and I are walking home with Gordon and then all of the sudden Reeves meets some of his friends who are snowboarding down a 12 foot hill (which by the way is about 100x more fun than it sounds.) Anyway while Reeves is doing this and I'm laughing at the fact that he can't make it four feet, Gordon has disappeared. This you're going to learn is a theme. Anyway it's close to one and Reeves and I are mildly worried because we're afraid that Gordon is passed out in snow somewhere catching hypothermia and dying. At this point I call my other very good friend here um, Devin? (We'll do with Devin, never been a fan of names that go with both guys and girls but for rhyming purposes this fits.) Devin tells me he hasn't seen Gordon and is going down to his room to try to find him. Ten minutes later I get a call saying that Devin has found Gordon and I didn't witness it but apparently the following conversation happened in full:
(Outside of Ellsworth Dormitory, on the steps in the snow)
Devin: Gordon what the hell are you doing?
Gordon: Devin, when did you get here?
Devin: Gordon, where are you?
Gordon: Dude, I'm in my room, how'd you get in here?
Devin: Gordon, you're sitting outside of Ells in the snow, this is absolutely not your room.
Gordon: .....
At this point Reeves and I have made it back up to Ells and met up with Gordon and Devin, I'm going to cut a bit of this story out at the request of my lawyer and just take this time to apologize to the University of Kansas Baseball Team. I can't really tell you why, so if you can get it out of one of the four of us best of luck, but we'll cut back to this story as we're walking back up from the baseball field where this following conversation happened:
(Keep in mind this is 45 minutes after we left the stairs next to Ellsworth)
Reeves: Hey guys, I found a wallet.
(Looks around inside the wallet)
Reeves: Gordon... this is YOUR wallet.
Gordon: Oh hey, thanks for that.
Me: You've got to be kidding me.
Devin: Wow, just wow.
We concluded the night by making a 3am IHOP trip where we had a creepy waiter tell us where Penny Hardaway and Jason Kidd went to college.
I had intended to write this whole thing tonight, but the Lakers game just started and the next couple stories I have will take a while. So we'll call this Part I and we'll pick this up tomorrow boys and girls when I'll tell you why cocaine's a hell of a drug. Just kidding but seriously....
PART II
Alright, after a good nights sleep and a Lakers win it appears we're ready for part two. There's not a lot of good part two's in this world, Lion King II sucked, Sandlot II sucked and even the second Scooby Doo movie wasn't as good. With that in mind hopefully I won't disappoint.
The following story involves some questionable decisions, a trip to the ER and a midget hooker. (Again two truths and a lie and the midget is absolutely not a lie.)
This story starts again on Alabama St. If you don't know where Alabama St. is see above or just imagine. If you've ever seen Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory it's pretty much identical to the road that takes them through the editable room. Actually it's 100% like that road, chocolate editable mushrooms and everything. Anyway, it's about 2am and we're leaving Alabama St. on our way to Taco Bell after making some questionable decision involving Memorial Stadium (questionable decisions are going to play a huge role in this story).
So we're in the drive thru line at Taco Bell when Devin calls me and tells me that we have to come back to the dorms right now. I ask him on a scale of 1-7.7 how important this is and he told me that we're looking at an 8.6 situation. For those of you who don't really understand this scale or just numbers in general an 8.6 situation is very, very important. So we leave Taco Bell much to my behest and return to the dorms where the following scene took place:
(I walk up to a group of people surrounding Gordon including Devin and Gordon's roomate Deed)
Me: Jesus, Gordon what the hell happened to you?
Gordon: Ben, I'm Big 12 quarterback of the year.
Me: No you're not.
Devin: Some guy called me from Gordon's phone and said that they found him bloodied up in their driveway, they have no idea what happened to him and neither does he. We gotta get him to the Emergency Room.
Me: Jesus Christ.
Gordon: I'm a Big 12 quarterback, sometimes you gotta take a hit.
The best I can describe this is that Gordon looked like Wolverine from X-Men met Freddy Kreuger. I wanted to get him a Phantom of the Opera mask to wear but I couldn't find one.
Anyway, we're on our way to the ER and Gordon is sitting in the front seat just talking and acting complete nonsense. I mean complete nonsense, like I could've been talking to Godzilla and understood more.
So we arrive at the hospital and the doctor is trying to figure out what happened and he apparently doesn't understand that none of us have a clue why our friend looks like he just spilled hydrochloric acid on his face.
He keeps asking questions and apparently wasn't top of the class in med school. Anyway before they take him back to fix him up or have the FBI interrogate him Devin and I decide that it might be a good idea to ask the doctor if they can put a GPS chip in Gordon so we can track him next time he disappears. Keep in mind that I've been in Kansas for four months and we've already lost Gordon three times.
I'm not sure if the doctor thought we were kidding (we absolutely weren't, we both thought this was a brilliant idea) or if we were just insane but the GPS chip did not happen much to our dismay.
Gordon lasted an hour and a half or so in the ER and hasn't been able to spell "nachos" since. (I have no idea on the spelling thing, just one of the odd injury consequences I guess).
That's just two of the stories I have for you, if I get bored this summer (which is guaranteed to happen) and I feel like writing (which is guaranteed not to happen) I'll have some more up here. Before I go though the following are a list of things that I learned or witnessed that aren't long enough for a story or I just don't have the time.
1. This year I witnessed Dylan Rogers convince everyone on his floor that my name is "Gigantor". This is awesome because I'm almost 100% sure that two girls on his floor legitimately think that the name on my birth certificate is "Gigantor M. Johnston".
2. Speaking of Dylan Rogers, I've also witnessed him verbally abuse people via Chatroulette to the point where I cannot stop crying. Dylan insulting people via the internet is fantastic.
3. I've learned that Kevin Jackson cannot read. Seriously. He's completely illiterate. The following conversation happened while filling out softball lineup cards.
Me: Hey Kev, what's the next girls' name on their roster?
Kev: Uh, it's "Mary", spelled "M-A-R-I-E".
If you don't get why the previous sentence is funny all I can say is keep reading and hopefully at some point it will make sense.
4. Also speaking of Kevin, I've learned that's there's absolutely no filter between what his brain thinks and his mouth says. He's said so many things this semester that are hilarious and yet borderline creepy. I love it. Mike can attest to this.
5. I've seen Mike, Kevin and I eat 18 crab rangoons in less than four minutes. This reminds me if there was an Olympic sport for eating we're the Michael Phelps of said event. This is not debatable.
6. I've been to the GPhi formal this semester without actually going to the formal. That sounds really confusing but it was one of the best time I've had here by far.
7. Speaking of GPhi formals, I've witnessed a kid who at this formal cracked his head open in the frat shower, had his friends super glue it back together and came out with us 30 minutes later. This is extremely stupid and I'd never advise this but boys and girls that's a true champion.
8. I've learned that I can't jump fences and that no matter how much you drink, when your face meets a sidewalk it still hurts. Oops.
9. I've learned that a class C felony for selling crack cocaine is a prison sentence of 7 years. (I mean, um, awkward, this needs to end now...)
And finally...
10. I've learned that coming to school here was the best decision I've ever made.
Hope you enjoyed and until next time
Your friend and mine
- ben
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Monday, October 12, 2009
The "Biology Brawl"
So basically let me break this down for you. Here's how my Monday's work after Algebra I head straight to Biology lab and then after Biology lecture. Since nothing even close to interesting happened in Algebra today besides creepy stares and loss of innocence we'll pick this up in Bio lab.
Biology is probably my least favorite class that I attend at Meramec however, it's the most entertaining simply for the reason that the Adult:Teen ratio is 8:1 in the favor of the adults. There's maybe 4-5 teens ages 19-24 (if you include the foreign lady who doesn't speak english then 5). Anyway there's about 25 adults to 5 teens is what I'm getting at here. The adults are split basically about 13-12 in terms of male and female and that's important for later so remember that little tidbit of information.
The adult men have their own little section in lab as do the women and naturally us teens take up the last tables including the foreign lady who can't speak English and therefore can't interact with anyone so is about as useful as garbage.
Anyway, here's the scenario. We had our midterm test on Friday and by some fucked up method of math that our teacher used it apparently is worth about a third of our grade. If you can't see where this is going our tests didn't turn out so hot. As our teacher is explaining to us that we can "only go up the rest of the semester" and that "F is just a jumping off point to an A" (fucking stupidest phrase I've ever heard by the way), you can tell that some tension is rising among the adult lab tables. Some of the woman are openly mumbling under their breathes about how ridiculous this test was. (Sidenote: I'd like to inject my own opinion in here and tell everyone that I'm going to agree with these women and say that this test was complete bullshit. Basically our drone of a teacher gave us a study guide and then decided she was going to make the test on everything that wasn't on the study guide. Complete nonsense, anyway...) at this point one woman openly stand up and objects to receiving a grade for this test, demanding that she be able to get an A. I'm honestly not sure if she really thought she was going to get an A or not but one of the men on the other side of lab politely reminds her that in America that really isn't how anything works.
This douche of a man is probably 55 years old, wearing AE jeans that are made for someone half his age, a black leather jacket and a skull cap. So after he let's everyone know how he feels, this large lady who happens to be the friend of "Objection" lady stands up and reminds Colin Farrell in the skull cap that no one in this class even likes him and that he can shut the fuck up. To be honest I'm kinda with Queen Latifah on this one as I personally can't stand Mr. Farrell in real life or in this class.
(One more side note, if you need a pen an pencil to write down and follow all these people and their "names" I'll stop and wait while you grab one, I apologize I don't know names but honestly these people are more grating than the bird house at the zoo.)
(Got your pencil? Great!)
Anyway, so Latifah and Farrell are going at it pretty hard core and lab class has about maybe 10 minutes or so to go before we head upstairs and start lecture class. Objection lady for God knows why is still demanding an A and our teacher is still giving her this puzzled look like she's the dumbest sack of shit to walk the Earth. I find that our teacher gives this look more and more these days. Latifah and Farrell are winding down and I'm thinking everything's blown over and anyway it's time to head to lecture.
LECTURE CLASS:
So in lecture class our teacher makes the asinine decision to devote this whole lecture class today to talking about our tests. Good call, let's talk about the subject that brought us to a shouting match downstairs nearly five minutes ago. Brilliant, no let me rephrase that, BRILLIANT.
Here's where shit just goes wild.
Objection lady and her friend Tamara (I think that's her name but then again she is white) are now hardcore ranting to our teacher about how unfair and juvenile the test was. Yes, the people who are cursing and ranting at the teacher are calling something juvenile, I love the irony here. I'd like to also add another dose of irony here by saying that if these people hadn't failed class in high school/college the first time they probably wouldn't be here and in turn failed this test. Oh sweet irony. Anyway, Colin Farrell is again mocking the women side of the class as apparently he thinks there's nothing wrong with the test as he got a good grade. (Editor's note: we later found out he got a 68%). So Tamara is in full force arguing with him and at this point I'm on facebook trying to avoid what is obviously a very uncomfortable situation for anyone that's not involved. The girl next to me is terrified and gonna be honest I was a bit too. I also don't think the foreign lady knew jack about what was going on because her expression didn't change once. She was like a gargoyle.
As I turn back to this argument, I see a large black man turn to Queen Latifah and tell her that she "needs to calm down". What happened next was probably the greatest moment of the whole thing as she turned to Randy Jackson and told him "what I need to do is beat your ass." BOOM. Mr. Jackson looks stunned and Colin Farrell who is apparently good friends with Randy is now walking towards Latifah and I honest to God think there's going to be a fight here. Objection lady and the 53 year old know it all are now screaming personal insults at our teacher and while our teacher is about as intelligent as a rock I do feel for the lady as these women are really handing it to her.
Cross class as Colin approaches the Queen some small little Irish man with red hair and a Chinese tattoo that I'm pretty sure stands for "jackoff", steps in the middle and tries to calm things down. That might've been effective if he wasn't the size of my left leg and built like a lawn gnome. Anyway, Farrell stops for a second but not before hurling an insult at Latifah and it was then when Tamara chucked a pen cross room and hit him square in the neck.
GAME ON.
Randy Jackson is now irate and whether he's meaning to or not doing his best Samuel L Jackson screaming impression. The short Irish guy literally gets knocked off his feet and Farrell is charging at Queen Latifah. As they're about to meet in the middle of the room the stoner kid on my right looks at me and motions to the door. I'm thinking that that may not be a bad idea but unfortunately everyone is now standing and all the aisles are completely blocked. At the request of K. Jarrett I'm trying to record this on my phone but the battery died mid video and didn't save anything. My teacher is now cursing herself telling anyone who'll listen to "act like fucking adults." At this point Farrell and Queen Latifah are mid room like in each other's faces arm locked but no one is throwing punches. It takes 3 guys to pull them apart and my teacher is brutally trying anything to restore order. It's now 15 minutes passed when class is supposed to be over and my teacher looks to the group and says "So uh, we'll pick this up next time?". Seriously, ma'am that's the best you've got?
I'm walking out the door behind my teacher and I can still hear some yelling behind me but Queen Latifah is escorted out behind me by some of her friends and the other guys in the class are trying to get Colin Farrell and Randy Jackson to chill the fuck out.
As I'm leaving, I pass a Meramec security guard making his way up the stairs.
I can't attest to anything that happened after that, but class got real today.
I had another blog in progress which will be up sometime next week but wanted to get this one in now,
So until next time
Your friend and mine,
-ben
Biology is probably my least favorite class that I attend at Meramec however, it's the most entertaining simply for the reason that the Adult:Teen ratio is 8:1 in the favor of the adults. There's maybe 4-5 teens ages 19-24 (if you include the foreign lady who doesn't speak english then 5). Anyway there's about 25 adults to 5 teens is what I'm getting at here. The adults are split basically about 13-12 in terms of male and female and that's important for later so remember that little tidbit of information.
The adult men have their own little section in lab as do the women and naturally us teens take up the last tables including the foreign lady who can't speak English and therefore can't interact with anyone so is about as useful as garbage.
Anyway, here's the scenario. We had our midterm test on Friday and by some fucked up method of math that our teacher used it apparently is worth about a third of our grade. If you can't see where this is going our tests didn't turn out so hot. As our teacher is explaining to us that we can "only go up the rest of the semester" and that "F is just a jumping off point to an A" (fucking stupidest phrase I've ever heard by the way), you can tell that some tension is rising among the adult lab tables. Some of the woman are openly mumbling under their breathes about how ridiculous this test was. (Sidenote: I'd like to inject my own opinion in here and tell everyone that I'm going to agree with these women and say that this test was complete bullshit. Basically our drone of a teacher gave us a study guide and then decided she was going to make the test on everything that wasn't on the study guide. Complete nonsense, anyway...) at this point one woman openly stand up and objects to receiving a grade for this test, demanding that she be able to get an A. I'm honestly not sure if she really thought she was going to get an A or not but one of the men on the other side of lab politely reminds her that in America that really isn't how anything works.
This douche of a man is probably 55 years old, wearing AE jeans that are made for someone half his age, a black leather jacket and a skull cap. So after he let's everyone know how he feels, this large lady who happens to be the friend of "Objection" lady stands up and reminds Colin Farrell in the skull cap that no one in this class even likes him and that he can shut the fuck up. To be honest I'm kinda with Queen Latifah on this one as I personally can't stand Mr. Farrell in real life or in this class.
(One more side note, if you need a pen an pencil to write down and follow all these people and their "names" I'll stop and wait while you grab one, I apologize I don't know names but honestly these people are more grating than the bird house at the zoo.)
(Got your pencil? Great!)
Anyway, so Latifah and Farrell are going at it pretty hard core and lab class has about maybe 10 minutes or so to go before we head upstairs and start lecture class. Objection lady for God knows why is still demanding an A and our teacher is still giving her this puzzled look like she's the dumbest sack of shit to walk the Earth. I find that our teacher gives this look more and more these days. Latifah and Farrell are winding down and I'm thinking everything's blown over and anyway it's time to head to lecture.
LECTURE CLASS:
So in lecture class our teacher makes the asinine decision to devote this whole lecture class today to talking about our tests. Good call, let's talk about the subject that brought us to a shouting match downstairs nearly five minutes ago. Brilliant, no let me rephrase that, BRILLIANT.
Here's where shit just goes wild.
Objection lady and her friend Tamara (I think that's her name but then again she is white) are now hardcore ranting to our teacher about how unfair and juvenile the test was. Yes, the people who are cursing and ranting at the teacher are calling something juvenile, I love the irony here. I'd like to also add another dose of irony here by saying that if these people hadn't failed class in high school/college the first time they probably wouldn't be here and in turn failed this test. Oh sweet irony. Anyway, Colin Farrell is again mocking the women side of the class as apparently he thinks there's nothing wrong with the test as he got a good grade. (Editor's note: we later found out he got a 68%). So Tamara is in full force arguing with him and at this point I'm on facebook trying to avoid what is obviously a very uncomfortable situation for anyone that's not involved. The girl next to me is terrified and gonna be honest I was a bit too. I also don't think the foreign lady knew jack about what was going on because her expression didn't change once. She was like a gargoyle.
As I turn back to this argument, I see a large black man turn to Queen Latifah and tell her that she "needs to calm down". What happened next was probably the greatest moment of the whole thing as she turned to Randy Jackson and told him "what I need to do is beat your ass." BOOM. Mr. Jackson looks stunned and Colin Farrell who is apparently good friends with Randy is now walking towards Latifah and I honest to God think there's going to be a fight here. Objection lady and the 53 year old know it all are now screaming personal insults at our teacher and while our teacher is about as intelligent as a rock I do feel for the lady as these women are really handing it to her.
Cross class as Colin approaches the Queen some small little Irish man with red hair and a Chinese tattoo that I'm pretty sure stands for "jackoff", steps in the middle and tries to calm things down. That might've been effective if he wasn't the size of my left leg and built like a lawn gnome. Anyway, Farrell stops for a second but not before hurling an insult at Latifah and it was then when Tamara chucked a pen cross room and hit him square in the neck.
GAME ON.
Randy Jackson is now irate and whether he's meaning to or not doing his best Samuel L Jackson screaming impression. The short Irish guy literally gets knocked off his feet and Farrell is charging at Queen Latifah. As they're about to meet in the middle of the room the stoner kid on my right looks at me and motions to the door. I'm thinking that that may not be a bad idea but unfortunately everyone is now standing and all the aisles are completely blocked. At the request of K. Jarrett I'm trying to record this on my phone but the battery died mid video and didn't save anything. My teacher is now cursing herself telling anyone who'll listen to "act like fucking adults." At this point Farrell and Queen Latifah are mid room like in each other's faces arm locked but no one is throwing punches. It takes 3 guys to pull them apart and my teacher is brutally trying anything to restore order. It's now 15 minutes passed when class is supposed to be over and my teacher looks to the group and says "So uh, we'll pick this up next time?". Seriously, ma'am that's the best you've got?
I'm walking out the door behind my teacher and I can still hear some yelling behind me but Queen Latifah is escorted out behind me by some of her friends and the other guys in the class are trying to get Colin Farrell and Randy Jackson to chill the fuck out.
As I'm leaving, I pass a Meramec security guard making his way up the stairs.
I can't attest to anything that happened after that, but class got real today.
I had another blog in progress which will be up sometime next week but wanted to get this one in now,
So until next time
Your friend and mine,
-ben
Monday, September 28, 2009
Community College: The Finest America has to Offer.
I've got friends who write blogs. I've even got a few family members. I never really got into that whole thing, writing just wasn't really something I was interested in. Well that's about to change. After a semester and a half in Community College I feel it is my duty to inform that rest of the world of the horrors that take place in these hallowed halls. I'm also incredibly bitter towards this subject so take that with a grain of salt as you navigate your way through the following piece of brilliantly written literature.
Hold on kids class is about to begin.
Community College is like a relationship. (Side note taking relationship advice from me is like taking financial advice from Bernie Madoff). Coming from a big school I was pretty excited to get a change of pace into a smaller atmosphere with smaller class sizes and more attention towards students, like most relationships community college started off pretty well. Here's the best way I can describe this before I continue, basically it's pretty similar to how you start to date someone and everything is going great. You're having fun enjoying the other person's company and life is going well. Then after a while things are still alright but you realized that Susan (fake name) isn't all that exciting anymore, but she's still a nice girl so it last a little longer. Three weeks later and you realize Susan's insane and the whole thing spirals to all hell. Basically that's how my adventures have transpired so far.
I'm going to break this down into three categories so you can see what I'm talking about because I'm aware that if anyone reads this they probably haven't had the honor to attend so a prestigious establishment.
THE STUDENTS:
There's a couple types of students at CC. The first is the overbearing adult who dropped out of high school but makes it their business to answer every question in class to impress the teacher who's probably young enough to be their kid. These fine folks generally range from the age of 45-60 and are seen everywhere. They're like a rash. I'm serious. Take the fine lady who sits next to me in Biology. She is 53 years old and has a name that I never cared to ask. She always is the first one to try and answer a question and does that thing like a six year old when they have to go to the bathroom ("Oh, oh me! Me! I know!). Let me be quite frank with you there's nothing more annoying than an obnoxious elderly person in class. Furthermore ma'am in Biology class if you're reading this, if you'd put as much effort into school when Nixon was in office as you do now, you may actually have achieved some of your dreams. Stop trying to live through your kids and get a real job. I'd also like to point out that if one more adult tells me that Richard Nixon wasn't wrong, I'm going to go apeshit. The only guy guiltier than Nixon is OJ. Seriously, I apologize that you voted for the man. Hopefully you got the next one right but please stop telling me, because quite frankly it appears you haven't bathed in three days and I'm trying to pay attention.
The second type of student is the adult who did graduate high school or college but for some reason is taking classes again and only God knows why. These people are a complete mystery to me. I don't get it. Maybe they beat their kids or maybe they just have no friends but for whatever reason taking 15 hours of school a week at the age of 107 sounds like a good idea to them. These populous people usually keep to themselves unless it's just you and them in the halls, then they'll attempt to strike up a conversation. This reminds me if someone at CC every starts a conversation with the words "You know when I was young..." run. Run, run, run, run, run, run. I'm not kidding. Drop the class and never go back. Not only will you end up hearing a 12 minute story about how (insert high school) was better in the 1970's when you could smoke in school and the girls were easy, but you'll walk away praying to yourself that you don't end up like that guy when you're 80. Also if you happen to not be able to run or you're just slow (because they WILL chase after you) at the end of the story they'll always ask, "Ya know what I'm talking about?" No, I don't know what you're talking about because I didn't go to high school during the Revolutionary War and never got the chance to have tea with Robert E Lee, but thanks for that vividly detailed story and the 12 minutes of my life I'll never get back.
Finally, for the student section there's the teenage or mid twenties student who just appears to have no general idea of where they're going in life or what they're doing. These kids come into class and it's impossible to tell whether they're high or their though process really goes something like this. I don't really know why these kids bother to show up. They sit in class do nothing and get terrible grades. They might as well just take $1,500 and burn it. That's really not even an exaggeration. Although if you followed carefully you'll see that eventually student type #3 becomes student type #1 and this whole damned process starts over.
Unfortunately, I need a nap before work but next time I'll break you in on the wonderful faculty that is known as TEACHERS at Meramec.
COMMUNITY COLLEGE PART II - THE FACULTY
Community College is fascinating on a lot of levels. You see things you thought you'd never see in life, like a guy hanging from a tree in the middle of campus playing a flute and you meet people that you wonder how survival of the fittest hasn't already killed them.
The first thing I wondered when I stepped on campus was what the teachers would be like. I'd heard horrors stories about certain programs and um good things....actually, no the only good thing I'd heard about it was that the art program was great. My first semester teachers defined awful and I'm pretty sure my history teacher was a descendent of Hitler because he was WAY too excited to talk about the Holocaust. One of my classmates had to remind him that "six million people died during that you sick fuck." However, I digress. I'm going to focus on the teachers I have this semester. To start however, I'd like to remind you that unless you're in the art department 99.9% of the teachers are going to suck worse than this guy. It's just a fact. The faculty at Community College all have a different job at a real college/university and to be quite honest they don't really care about anything at CC but making a few extra dollars. (I also realize that I'm making rash generalization and sound completely jaded but for the sake of this blog role with me ok.)
Take for instance my algebra teacher. I'm in a late start class and the first thing this guys tells the class is "sorry if you don't like this class but I was told 48 hours ago that I was teaching this and haven't had time to prepare." Is this a joke? To quote my friend Brandon a ham sandwich could've taught me math better. Not only this but the class is in the farthest building on campus, basically the reject building and it's on the second floor in a classroom that MAYBE seats 20 kids and that's if three of them are anorexic. To top it off this guy is easily the creepiest person I've ever met. He's the Michael Devlin of teaching, the odds of the girl who sits in the front row filing sexual assault charges before the semester is over is currently 87%. I mean I guess since I'm a guy I can put up with him but I really feel like I should be calling in MSNBC and Chris Hanson to handle my math class.
The creepy teachers don't really bother me (because basically they're all creepy), it's the teachers who literally have no idea what state they're in that really get me. This would be my Biology teacher. The lady actually does work at a legitimate university and even has written the book and lab book we work with in class. Upon hearing this I thought that this may be a decent class, I mean she wrote the book so she should know the answers to the question.
So we're in lab class on Monday and if you received a text message along the lines of "FUCK THIS SCHOOL" on Monday you're about to find out why. We're performing a lab on bacteria which is about as fun as watching grass grow and there's a question in the lab book that nobody can understand. I mean nobody, I even asked the 53 year old lady at the next table who knows everything. She didn't know. So I'm thinking my teacher wrote this book I'll ask her. I proceed to explain to her that the question doesn't make any sense and ask her what she's looking for in the answer. I received the answer of "I don't know." Excuse me? You don't know....HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW, YOU WROTE THE DAMN BOOK? As I calmly and collectively reminded her of this she told me to google the question when I got home. Um, you're joking? Please, for the love of God tell me you're joking ma'am. I had to watch Michael Devlin eye rape an innocent girl for the last hour in algebra and you're telling me you don't know the answer to a question in A BOOK YOU WROTE. At this point I proceeded to walk out of class and cancelled school activities for the rest of the day. Ladies and gentlemen, Community College!
Again, I'm taking a nap before work today and will get the third and final part of this done tomorrow at some point. I hope.
However, before I go I'd like to share a story that happened to me in algebra. We're sitting in class playing "math baseball" which is the gayest thing you'll ever do, FYI. Basically we're all given a problem and supposed to solve it on our own is the gist of this. So the kid sitting next to me and I finish and we're talking and I look down the row and there's this heavy set kid who looks really confused. As Professor Devlin looks up and says "is everyone finished?", this heavy set kid stands up and shouts in the middle of class, "WHAT THE HELL ARE WE EVEN LOOKING FOR IN THIS PROBLEM?". Needless to say everyone including P. Devlin is stunned and the kid next to me is laughing so hard he's crying. So of course now I'm laughing and the kid who can't do 2x + 4 = 20 now feels like the world's biggest douche. Anyway, Michael excuses classes ten minutes early and I'm not clear if he molested the heavy set kid or not but he didn't come back next class.
Alright children, it's crunch time and class is winding down. It's time to hit the hardcore stuff, the stuff that's gonna be on the final exam.
The final part of the blog here we're going to do a bit differently. For starters I'm just going to label it SCHOOL and instead of complete thoughts as in the previous two parts I'm going to combine a bunch of random thoughts into paragraphs. If you like it great, if you don't well eat shit.
Without further hesitation, I present you SCHOOL:
Ok to start I'd like to talk about the quad, it's basically a grove of trees that's about as big as your home garden. In this grove however is where majority of the students meet with one another to talk about creepy things like Pokemon cards and World of War Craft. What I'd really like to hit on are the kids who play musical instruments in the "quad". For starters, to the kid who thinks he's Jason Mraz, for the love of God you're not. Seriously, you're about as much like Jason Mraz as I am Ghandi. You can't sing and you play the guitar about as well as a blind monkey. Also please, please, please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD learn another song than "The Remedy". I know it's tough because Jason Mraz is a fruit anyway, but if I walk by one more time and you're nine octaves too high on the second verse I'm seriously going to bitch slap you with that guitar. You've been warned. While I'm on this topic, to the girl who sits next to him and plays the tambourine, in no part of "The Remedy" is there a fucking tambourine. Actually, I'm going to fill you in on this little fact, in no part of any good song is there a tambourine. Do you know why, because it's a stupid instrument that requires little musical talent and is more grating to listen to than nails on a chalkboard. Learn a new instrument or just spare us all the trouble.
After we make our way through the quad, we find ourselves outside of Clark Hall. You may ask yourself who Clark is and don't bother because no one fucking knows. I've asked every person in Clark Hall and no one has a single clue as to who this douche is. Anyway, CH is where admissions at Meramec is housed which is also home to the most incompetent and inept people on the Earth. If you don't believe me ask anyone who attends this school and the admissions/financial aid faculty are awful. Let's start with admissions. As I'm attempting to send my transcripts to Kansas, the lady informs me that I don't I don't have the address for KU on my paper. As I politely remind her that I do, she informs me that the address on the application is for University of Kansas in Lawrence, KS. Um, no shit ma'am, that's where I want these transcripts sent. So the mummy behind the counter looks at it again and tells me that that's my home address. Of course, how could I forget that I lived in the admission office at KU, silly me. As old Frankenstein turns back to her computer I inconspicuously exit the room and make a few I hate the elderly comments just loud enough that Cleopatra at the next desk shoots me a look. Back off raiders of the lost ark.
I'm not even going to discuss the cashiers office because I'm pretty sure they've issued a restraining order against me.
I apologize that section three was a bit shorter than one and two. Just how I roll. Before, I put a wrap on this edition of "Why Community College Sucks Worse than my Future In-Laws." I'd like to end with a small story.
So I'm walking back to my car and I pass by two creeps wearing shirts that say "Professional Vag Inspector" and "I <3 Teachers With Cans." Really, you're a "Professor Vagina Inspector" sir, because you're 50 pounds passed obese, have acne I could play connect that dots with and haven't gotten a new haircut since '92. For the guy who likes "Teachers With Cans", really bro, really? I mean who doesn't like hot teachers? What, happens when you have a class with a hot teacher, didn't think that one through did you dipshit?
One more thing I'd like to mention before I leave. Who's hires these teachers? While in algebra today, I found out that Professor Devlin before working here was a middle school teacher. I mean, it makes perfect since that the guy who looks and acts like the most notorious child molester since Michael Jackson worked at a middle school, but we're hiring middle school teachers? Was Wildwood campus out of people to lend? Furthermore I'd like to add that somewhere there's a middle school with a large group of twelve year olds that are severely emotionally disturbed. I feel like the teaching requirements for this school are "Must be 25 years old and have a pulse." For crying out loud at least make an attempt here.
Anyway, I hope to keep this an ongoing thing. Here's to hoping my life remains remotely interesting.
Until next time,
Your friend and mine,
-ben
Hold on kids class is about to begin.
Community College is like a relationship. (Side note taking relationship advice from me is like taking financial advice from Bernie Madoff). Coming from a big school I was pretty excited to get a change of pace into a smaller atmosphere with smaller class sizes and more attention towards students, like most relationships community college started off pretty well. Here's the best way I can describe this before I continue, basically it's pretty similar to how you start to date someone and everything is going great. You're having fun enjoying the other person's company and life is going well. Then after a while things are still alright but you realized that Susan (fake name) isn't all that exciting anymore, but she's still a nice girl so it last a little longer. Three weeks later and you realize Susan's insane and the whole thing spirals to all hell. Basically that's how my adventures have transpired so far.
I'm going to break this down into three categories so you can see what I'm talking about because I'm aware that if anyone reads this they probably haven't had the honor to attend so a prestigious establishment.
THE STUDENTS:
There's a couple types of students at CC. The first is the overbearing adult who dropped out of high school but makes it their business to answer every question in class to impress the teacher who's probably young enough to be their kid. These fine folks generally range from the age of 45-60 and are seen everywhere. They're like a rash. I'm serious. Take the fine lady who sits next to me in Biology. She is 53 years old and has a name that I never cared to ask. She always is the first one to try and answer a question and does that thing like a six year old when they have to go to the bathroom ("Oh, oh me! Me! I know!). Let me be quite frank with you there's nothing more annoying than an obnoxious elderly person in class. Furthermore ma'am in Biology class if you're reading this, if you'd put as much effort into school when Nixon was in office as you do now, you may actually have achieved some of your dreams. Stop trying to live through your kids and get a real job. I'd also like to point out that if one more adult tells me that Richard Nixon wasn't wrong, I'm going to go apeshit. The only guy guiltier than Nixon is OJ. Seriously, I apologize that you voted for the man. Hopefully you got the next one right but please stop telling me, because quite frankly it appears you haven't bathed in three days and I'm trying to pay attention.
The second type of student is the adult who did graduate high school or college but for some reason is taking classes again and only God knows why. These people are a complete mystery to me. I don't get it. Maybe they beat their kids or maybe they just have no friends but for whatever reason taking 15 hours of school a week at the age of 107 sounds like a good idea to them. These populous people usually keep to themselves unless it's just you and them in the halls, then they'll attempt to strike up a conversation. This reminds me if someone at CC every starts a conversation with the words "You know when I was young..." run. Run, run, run, run, run, run. I'm not kidding. Drop the class and never go back. Not only will you end up hearing a 12 minute story about how (insert high school) was better in the 1970's when you could smoke in school and the girls were easy, but you'll walk away praying to yourself that you don't end up like that guy when you're 80. Also if you happen to not be able to run or you're just slow (because they WILL chase after you) at the end of the story they'll always ask, "Ya know what I'm talking about?" No, I don't know what you're talking about because I didn't go to high school during the Revolutionary War and never got the chance to have tea with Robert E Lee, but thanks for that vividly detailed story and the 12 minutes of my life I'll never get back.
Finally, for the student section there's the teenage or mid twenties student who just appears to have no general idea of where they're going in life or what they're doing. These kids come into class and it's impossible to tell whether they're high or their though process really goes something like this. I don't really know why these kids bother to show up. They sit in class do nothing and get terrible grades. They might as well just take $1,500 and burn it. That's really not even an exaggeration. Although if you followed carefully you'll see that eventually student type #3 becomes student type #1 and this whole damned process starts over.
Unfortunately, I need a nap before work but next time I'll break you in on the wonderful faculty that is known as TEACHERS at Meramec.
COMMUNITY COLLEGE PART II - THE FACULTY
Community College is fascinating on a lot of levels. You see things you thought you'd never see in life, like a guy hanging from a tree in the middle of campus playing a flute and you meet people that you wonder how survival of the fittest hasn't already killed them.
The first thing I wondered when I stepped on campus was what the teachers would be like. I'd heard horrors stories about certain programs and um good things....actually, no the only good thing I'd heard about it was that the art program was great. My first semester teachers defined awful and I'm pretty sure my history teacher was a descendent of Hitler because he was WAY too excited to talk about the Holocaust. One of my classmates had to remind him that "six million people died during that you sick fuck." However, I digress. I'm going to focus on the teachers I have this semester. To start however, I'd like to remind you that unless you're in the art department 99.9% of the teachers are going to suck worse than this guy. It's just a fact. The faculty at Community College all have a different job at a real college/university and to be quite honest they don't really care about anything at CC but making a few extra dollars. (I also realize that I'm making rash generalization and sound completely jaded but for the sake of this blog role with me ok.)
Take for instance my algebra teacher. I'm in a late start class and the first thing this guys tells the class is "sorry if you don't like this class but I was told 48 hours ago that I was teaching this and haven't had time to prepare." Is this a joke? To quote my friend Brandon a ham sandwich could've taught me math better. Not only this but the class is in the farthest building on campus, basically the reject building and it's on the second floor in a classroom that MAYBE seats 20 kids and that's if three of them are anorexic. To top it off this guy is easily the creepiest person I've ever met. He's the Michael Devlin of teaching, the odds of the girl who sits in the front row filing sexual assault charges before the semester is over is currently 87%. I mean I guess since I'm a guy I can put up with him but I really feel like I should be calling in MSNBC and Chris Hanson to handle my math class.
The creepy teachers don't really bother me (because basically they're all creepy), it's the teachers who literally have no idea what state they're in that really get me. This would be my Biology teacher. The lady actually does work at a legitimate university and even has written the book and lab book we work with in class. Upon hearing this I thought that this may be a decent class, I mean she wrote the book so she should know the answers to the question.
So we're in lab class on Monday and if you received a text message along the lines of "FUCK THIS SCHOOL" on Monday you're about to find out why. We're performing a lab on bacteria which is about as fun as watching grass grow and there's a question in the lab book that nobody can understand. I mean nobody, I even asked the 53 year old lady at the next table who knows everything. She didn't know. So I'm thinking my teacher wrote this book I'll ask her. I proceed to explain to her that the question doesn't make any sense and ask her what she's looking for in the answer. I received the answer of "I don't know." Excuse me? You don't know....HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW, YOU WROTE THE DAMN BOOK? As I calmly and collectively reminded her of this she told me to google the question when I got home. Um, you're joking? Please, for the love of God tell me you're joking ma'am. I had to watch Michael Devlin eye rape an innocent girl for the last hour in algebra and you're telling me you don't know the answer to a question in A BOOK YOU WROTE. At this point I proceeded to walk out of class and cancelled school activities for the rest of the day. Ladies and gentlemen, Community College!
Again, I'm taking a nap before work today and will get the third and final part of this done tomorrow at some point. I hope.
However, before I go I'd like to share a story that happened to me in algebra. We're sitting in class playing "math baseball" which is the gayest thing you'll ever do, FYI. Basically we're all given a problem and supposed to solve it on our own is the gist of this. So the kid sitting next to me and I finish and we're talking and I look down the row and there's this heavy set kid who looks really confused. As Professor Devlin looks up and says "is everyone finished?", this heavy set kid stands up and shouts in the middle of class, "WHAT THE HELL ARE WE EVEN LOOKING FOR IN THIS PROBLEM?". Needless to say everyone including P. Devlin is stunned and the kid next to me is laughing so hard he's crying. So of course now I'm laughing and the kid who can't do 2x + 4 = 20 now feels like the world's biggest douche. Anyway, Michael excuses classes ten minutes early and I'm not clear if he molested the heavy set kid or not but he didn't come back next class.
Alright children, it's crunch time and class is winding down. It's time to hit the hardcore stuff, the stuff that's gonna be on the final exam.
The final part of the blog here we're going to do a bit differently. For starters I'm just going to label it SCHOOL and instead of complete thoughts as in the previous two parts I'm going to combine a bunch of random thoughts into paragraphs. If you like it great, if you don't well eat shit.
Without further hesitation, I present you SCHOOL:
Ok to start I'd like to talk about the quad, it's basically a grove of trees that's about as big as your home garden. In this grove however is where majority of the students meet with one another to talk about creepy things like Pokemon cards and World of War Craft. What I'd really like to hit on are the kids who play musical instruments in the "quad". For starters, to the kid who thinks he's Jason Mraz, for the love of God you're not. Seriously, you're about as much like Jason Mraz as I am Ghandi. You can't sing and you play the guitar about as well as a blind monkey. Also please, please, please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD learn another song than "The Remedy". I know it's tough because Jason Mraz is a fruit anyway, but if I walk by one more time and you're nine octaves too high on the second verse I'm seriously going to bitch slap you with that guitar. You've been warned. While I'm on this topic, to the girl who sits next to him and plays the tambourine, in no part of "The Remedy" is there a fucking tambourine. Actually, I'm going to fill you in on this little fact, in no part of any good song is there a tambourine. Do you know why, because it's a stupid instrument that requires little musical talent and is more grating to listen to than nails on a chalkboard. Learn a new instrument or just spare us all the trouble.
After we make our way through the quad, we find ourselves outside of Clark Hall. You may ask yourself who Clark is and don't bother because no one fucking knows. I've asked every person in Clark Hall and no one has a single clue as to who this douche is. Anyway, CH is where admissions at Meramec is housed which is also home to the most incompetent and inept people on the Earth. If you don't believe me ask anyone who attends this school and the admissions/financial aid faculty are awful. Let's start with admissions. As I'm attempting to send my transcripts to Kansas, the lady informs me that I don't I don't have the address for KU on my paper. As I politely remind her that I do, she informs me that the address on the application is for University of Kansas in Lawrence, KS. Um, no shit ma'am, that's where I want these transcripts sent. So the mummy behind the counter looks at it again and tells me that that's my home address. Of course, how could I forget that I lived in the admission office at KU, silly me. As old Frankenstein turns back to her computer I inconspicuously exit the room and make a few I hate the elderly comments just loud enough that Cleopatra at the next desk shoots me a look. Back off raiders of the lost ark.
I'm not even going to discuss the cashiers office because I'm pretty sure they've issued a restraining order against me.
I apologize that section three was a bit shorter than one and two. Just how I roll. Before, I put a wrap on this edition of "Why Community College Sucks Worse than my Future In-Laws." I'd like to end with a small story.
So I'm walking back to my car and I pass by two creeps wearing shirts that say "Professional Vag Inspector" and "I <3 Teachers With Cans." Really, you're a "Professor Vagina Inspector" sir, because you're 50 pounds passed obese, have acne I could play connect that dots with and haven't gotten a new haircut since '92. For the guy who likes "Teachers With Cans", really bro, really? I mean who doesn't like hot teachers? What, happens when you have a class with a hot teacher, didn't think that one through did you dipshit?
One more thing I'd like to mention before I leave. Who's hires these teachers? While in algebra today, I found out that Professor Devlin before working here was a middle school teacher. I mean, it makes perfect since that the guy who looks and acts like the most notorious child molester since Michael Jackson worked at a middle school, but we're hiring middle school teachers? Was Wildwood campus out of people to lend? Furthermore I'd like to add that somewhere there's a middle school with a large group of twelve year olds that are severely emotionally disturbed. I feel like the teaching requirements for this school are "Must be 25 years old and have a pulse." For crying out loud at least make an attempt here.
Anyway, I hope to keep this an ongoing thing. Here's to hoping my life remains remotely interesting.
Until next time,
Your friend and mine,
-ben
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