Good Start, Bick

Wow. That's the quickest yet. Fear not, loyal reader(s?), as a couple of classmates annoyed me enough to write a post about them.

So, school is easy. Now, if you know me, you know that I am not smart. Or, just read the other posts, I'll wait.

...

See, I'm a blowhard. But graduate school, as a general rule, is designed to be easy. Don't misunderstand me: the work is challenging and you have a lot of reading. However, it's nearly impossible to get bad grades. It's actually kind of a joke. Regardless, come to class with me.

In this particular class, we basically take notes off of an overhead and do in class assignments like 12 year olds. So, whatever. Well, one hippy chick decides that this class is so beneath her that she is going to knit instead of paying attention. You know who knits? Old people, because they are too feeble to move. If I were a teacher and someone leisurely knitted in my class, I'd make them fashion everyone a sweater, and then we'd all poop on the sweaters and set them on fire at her front door.

The story actually has little to do with the knitter and more to do with the chick who sits next to her. She comes in all sad and shit, our teacher asks what's wrong, and she babbles through all this pressure she's under. Remember, school's really easy and there are no attendance policies or punishments for not doing assignments. Still, she's sooooo stressed. Soo stressed, in fact, that she begins crying in class. Like, awkward, loud sobs. She and the knitting freak bolted into the hallway so that she could sob somewhere that it echoed loudly, I guess. It was awesome.