Class on Thursday was not the same without the Enlightened One. The entire class wanted to know why Rasputin was not in attendance. And by that I mean we all wanted to know if he was now getting butt-raped in the local mental hospital. Professor pot-head refused to give out any information, so I took matters into my own hands.
I figured that the campus police would not willingly give out the juicy information, so I made a plan. I pretended to be Sacha, the girl that was hit in the face. I put my hair in a pony tail and got my nerd glasses out of my glove box. I didn't want them to recognize me as the creepy girl that hid in the bushes. I walked nervously into the office ( I wasn't really nervous, but my plan was to act like I was nervous about being clocked in the face again.) Looking over my shoulder like Rasputin could jump out me any second, I asked about his whereabouts. The officer tried to play it cool at first but I think he had a thing for scared girls in glasses. It turns out that Rasputin was taken to the school counseling center and prescribed some meds that should shut him up. That shouldn't matter though because he is no longer allowed on campus. The officer also informed me that he is allowed to take his classes online. That is just what Rasputin needs, more time online playing World Of Warcraft and reading about wizards.
I was hoping that something much more unfair and violent would have happened to him. I think the penalty for pretending you are God, and suggesting the class shove tampons in their butts, should be prison rape. But that's just me.
Dear Person,
If you are going to read this, I would advise that you put on a diaper. The following is likely to make you poop your pants. This past Tuesday I was almost murdered.... by imaginary fire-ball. Thinking back, I should have seen this coming. I have met more clinically insane people wandering public streets in Ventura County, California than I have anywhere else in the world . The fact that I have to pay out of state tuition and go to a community college only aggravates this problem. In fact, I believe there is actually a club for mouth breathers at VCC.
Disclaimer: For fear of further fire-ball usage, I will refer to the would-be maniac murderer as Rasputin. (I figure the physical resemblance between the two is a mean, mean joke God played on me.)
Sociology of Gender Roles is taught by an awesome ex-hippie Professor. I have taken other classes from her and decided this one would be entertaining enough. Our class was introduced to Rasputin when he raised his four-foot long arm. After an approval nod from the Prof., he gave a five minute long discourse of have the bow and arrow was originally made because it is like a penis. Nervous laughter from the class followed. Over the next few weeks Rasputin also committed the following social crimes:
1. Holding his freakishly long arm up 80% of the time to make his stupid 5 minute long comments.
2. Having freakishly long arms and fingers.
3. He would interrupt other students to let them know that he didn't approve of their opinions.
4. Forced the Prof. to allow him only 10 comments per hour and a half class.
5. Assumed that I was paying out of state tuition ($3,500) to hear him teach me about gender roles. He was one of those kids that have to prove they are smarter than you by regurgitating everything in the textbook.6. Consistently corrected and called out the Professor, which by the way, she should be sainted for. She was so patient, I assume it is a side effect of previous pot usage.
7. Announcing to the class that he is a "genius", while calling a girl a "dumb-a**" in the process.
8. Asking the Prof. if she was "turned on by the kilt?" in Braveheart.
9. When given the assignment of doing something against your gender norm, he said a good idea would be for a guy to buy tampons so "we can all shove them up our a**holes." (I wish I was making this up.)
10. He would hunch over and angrily grab onto the sides of his desk while giving the class death stares when everyone giggled at his comments.
11. Frequently spoke of the positive effects of mass genocide.
As my good friend Marianne pointed out, I do have a tendency to say the exact thing that will make someone the angriest. Though I did exercise some restraint, last Tuesday got the best of me.
I had already called Rasputin out a few times over the semester, and been the recipient of about 4 or 5 death stares. There was something about my comments that seemed to get under his skin more than anyone else's comments. Probably because I insult his intelligence and manhood. Who knew that telling someone that they had to have pubes to be considered a man was offensive?
After edifying the class about the importance of not judging others based on their education level, Rasputin informed us that every dumb person should be killed. I gently >:) reminded him that we should not judge others. Here is comes, fasten your diapers: He jumped up and threw his arm out at me as if he was throwing a fireball (like on the xbox game Fable) hitting my friend Sacha right in the face! Chaos ensued. While everyone was making sure Sacha was alright the men in the class told Rasputin to settle down, telling him that he was "lucky a guy wasn't sitting there or you would of gotten punched in the face." Rasputin was angry and could feel his powers welling up inside of him. He thrust his hand forth to emit an imaginary ball of flames to the left side of the class. He used his skills in wizardry to stomp on a desk, then fire-balled the other side of the class. The entire village of Gender roles 101 was now engulfed in the fiery flames of Rasputin's wrath. Rasputin raised his hands towards the sky and compelled us to "Recognize the enlightend one!"(he really said this.) A knight in shining armor stepped forth and saith,"dude, you are crazy, you need to sit down or you are going to get beat."
By this time I had packed up my stuff and fearing for my life, fled towards parking lot W. The rest of the class followed. I was about to get into my car when I thought of my pot-loving Professor who was all alone in the room with him. I turned around. I told campus police that Rasputin has taken revenge on classroom G 211. Police response was immediate. I hid in the bushes outside of the building for about ten minutes hoping to see Rasputin get tasered. But my legs got tired so I left.
I'm going to that class right now, hopefully something exciting happened. Update soon.
Being a new home owner should come with a manual. While shopping for homes in Southern California my Husband and I were determined to find the best shack that our money could buy. If anyone is familiar with the housing market in So. Cal. you know that in order to have a nice house you must promise your first born as the down payment. Lucky for us, Jared and I are both relatively smart with our money and have saved a little while living in Ohio. We searched everywhere, but we had our eyes set on a nunnery across the street from where we were squatting. Jared's grandparents were kind enough to let us crash in their beautiful house for what turned into 4 MONTHS. Eager to have us move out, Jared's grandma Annette used her sweet old lady charm to get us the details about the possible selling of the nunnery.We ended up buying this house the second we found out it was available. I later received many hate calls about our covert purchase.The house is pretty nasty. There are handle bars throughout the house used for helping the old nuns
get around. The cupboards smell like old cheap perfume. The garage has been converted into a chapel with a cross on the outside. It is also unfortunate that the front of our house looks like a mobile home.
On the other hand the yard is amazing. I thought that there was no way we could find a house with a yard in California.
The downside is that we can't afford the yard care services that were keeping the yard so beautiful. I now spend most of my free time trying to keep the yard from growing wild. I sometimes wonder why I am paying an insane mortgage to live in a nasty house, spend all my time doing yard work, and smelling the cupboards.... then I walk outside in a skirt and flip flops in the middle of winter.... it's awesome here.
Class on Thursday was not the same without the Enlightened One. The entire class wanted to know why Rasputin was not in attendance. And by that I mean we all wanted to know if he was now getting butt-raped in the local mental hospital. Professor pot-head refused to give out any information, so I took matters into my own hands.
