Day’s Verse:
And my tongue shall declare Your righteousness and Your praise all day long.

If you could pause, please take a moment of silence for my first broken plate from the dishes I absolutely love. Every time I use one of these dishes, I feel a little glow of happiness at the bright colors of the dish. Here I had an actual, full set of dishes and now my fingers slipped in the sink and that full set is no more. This saddens me. Is that like crying over spilt milk? In any case, a happy ending may still come out of this. I called Lands’ End, the people who made the dishes, and they said there was a good chance I could get the plate replaced! So perhaps I’ll get a happy, shiny new blue plate in the mail one day, and once more harness the power of a full set of dishes.

Some students failed to harness the power of attending class for our Biology exam today. Last exam two students discussed how they had studied 40 minutes and 20 minutes, respectively. One fellow behind me commented his amazement that he actually saw students studying for the exam around on campus. At least twice I heard students discussing how one or the other hadn’t gotten around to stepping foot in class since the last exam several weeks ago. Their discussion sounded to my untrainied but critical ear rather like boasting. One-upping, so to speak. You could almost see the poker chips:

“I only went to two classes between this test ant the last one.”
“I’ll see your two classes and raise you no classes!”
“Too rich for my blood.”

I wanted to smack them and say, “You lazy snailbrains! Don’t you have any conception of how much every single class costs?! Each class costs you twitheads $2,916, and you blow it off to sleep, or drink, or just not go? Have you no respect for the vast debt your parents have shouldered so you snotnosed excuses for pre-teens can sleep, or be hungover, through this Biology class? You philistines never come to class, never take notes, and wonder why you fail an exam the professor blatantly told us would focus on ontes. You make me ashamed to call myself a WPI student, you pathetic quivering puddles of pestilence!”

And no, before you ask, I did not consult any insult-generators for these insults. Their nerdiness alone should indicate they come entirely from my own fairly pissed-off mind.

– KF –

4 thoughts on “Some Students Are Such Cretinous, Fungus-Toed, Drool-Lipped, Cross-Eyed, Peurile-Brained, Helium-Headed, Mucus-Guzzling, Lobotomized Limpets!

  1. Although I must say, when you ARE paying for it yourself, there are times when I feel I have earned (paid for) the right to not go if I wish. Of course, I usually don’t choose to exercise that right, but it still urks me when I can’t have it…especially in grad school…

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