It's the time of year when that chemical imbalance in all human beings starts doing a little jig, forcing people to scream, "THE BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEACH WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,"
and then go to the beach... and then lie down.
Everywhere from offices to retirement homes, skirts are voluntarily hiking themselves up a half foot, the blockade of alcohol producing countries has decided to hike its production 100%, aging hippies are hiking to seven eleven to buy a fruitopia beverage, and another typical summer type statement with the word hike in it would go here.
Let us not forget that this is also the time of year that major institutions of education are running budget package courses for those kids who think it will actually help them graduate on time. Professors with lower than semester time standards, and lower than semester time pay, are lowering shades to block out sunlight, beautiful views and thoughts of freedom. The Suffra spends a few hours a day in one of these classes, being not amused.
"Wercum tu Ringwishtik wan oh wan," Prof Matsuratomatisumatomoto said smiling broadly at having completed the sentence, then sitting down to catch her breath.
"Oh, You gotta be fucking kidding me," I groaned, letting my arm go limp and slam on a desk, then leaning back as every other student in the room followed my lead, except for nerd boy to my left who was to busy trying to figure out how to spell ringwishtik.
I'm pretty sure that this class has nothing to do with rings wishes or sticks, and I don't know who wan is, so I check my schedule to see whatever it was I'm wasting my summer on:
Linguistics 101...
"SON OF A BITCH" I scream, looking at Matsuratomatisumatomoto pleading.
"Wats der probrem?" She asked as nerd boy wrote it down.
"I Hate Irony," Jock boy behind me says, in a seemingly out of character burst of intelligence...
Cheerleader hang on jock boy to his left agreed, "It's true, I once saw him punch a Scottish guy for trying to clone a sheep."
Nerd Boy looks around the room, trying to figure out if irony is going to be on the test.
"MY friends," I say arms raised to the class, "surely this professor has a plan to make this class run smoother than seems possible, maybe she trained a parrot to speak for her."
I look around the room and then turn to Matsuratomatisumatomoto, "Where's the parrot?"
The poor professor furrowed her brow. I seem to have made one of those common mistakes that one would make when talking to a non-native speaker, which is using a word that is not a common part of the situation you are in. I could have talked to her about parrots had I met her in the zoo, but this being a classroom; the word wasn't sitting in her queue. Therefore, the class must sit and wait as she scans her database for it.
"I have dog," Matsuratomatisumatomoto offers up as an answer...
"Can the dog speak English?" I ask, hoping for something
"Better than her I bet," jock boy chimes in.
"No Sirry," Matsuratomatisumatomoto says playfully, "Dog can onry da woof woof, no speaka Engrish.
"YOU ARE DEAD LADY," Irony hating jock boy screamed, as Cheerleader hang on girl grabbed his arm,
"NO Don’t, She ain't worth it hunny," she screamed
"Not so fast," I say getting up and walking over to jock boy and cheerleader girl.
I slide my fingers under cheerleader’s grip of jock boy's arm.
"Matsuratomatisumatomoto," I say, "how do you plan on teaching a class bout the sounds of words you can't pronounce?"
I waited and watched the emotions slide over the professor's face, as she tried to put together what was going on. Just as I was about to give up, I saw a serene smile come over her face, the kind that only Asian women can make. It's a smile of knowledge, a smile of assurance, and its soothing effects brought the raging anger of the class to a passive whimper.
She lingered on the calm smile for a moment then said, "OHHHHHHH, dat is ironic." then giggled to herself
"OK," I said prying jock boy from cheerleader girl's grip, "kill her."
Speaking from experience, Matsuratomatisumatomoto’s beat down was one of the top five all time beat downs in history. The sheer brutality of it blew away the prohibitionist’s beat down they received when they propositioned fraternities in the early 20th century to voluntarily go dry. Jock boy's rage was on high flame, worse than the mob of jock boys when they beat down that kid who caught the ball at the red sox/Yankee game.
Nerd boy sat and took notes, as the rest of the class witnessed one of the most epic beatdowns in the history of Jock boys... and the Suffra lit a cigarette.
and then go to the beach... and then lie down.
Everywhere from offices to retirement homes, skirts are voluntarily hiking themselves up a half foot, the blockade of alcohol producing countries has decided to hike its production 100%, aging hippies are hiking to seven eleven to buy a fruitopia beverage, and another typical summer type statement with the word hike in it would go here.
Let us not forget that this is also the time of year that major institutions of education are running budget package courses for those kids who think it will actually help them graduate on time. Professors with lower than semester time standards, and lower than semester time pay, are lowering shades to block out sunlight, beautiful views and thoughts of freedom. The Suffra spends a few hours a day in one of these classes, being not amused.
"Wercum tu Ringwishtik wan oh wan," Prof Matsuratomatisumatomoto said smiling broadly at having completed the sentence, then sitting down to catch her breath.
"Oh, You gotta be fucking kidding me," I groaned, letting my arm go limp and slam on a desk, then leaning back as every other student in the room followed my lead, except for nerd boy to my left who was to busy trying to figure out how to spell ringwishtik.
I'm pretty sure that this class has nothing to do with rings wishes or sticks, and I don't know who wan is, so I check my schedule to see whatever it was I'm wasting my summer on:
Linguistics 101...
"SON OF A BITCH" I scream, looking at Matsuratomatisumatomoto pleading.
"Wats der probrem?" She asked as nerd boy wrote it down.
"I Hate Irony," Jock boy behind me says, in a seemingly out of character burst of intelligence...
Cheerleader hang on jock boy to his left agreed, "It's true, I once saw him punch a Scottish guy for trying to clone a sheep."
Nerd Boy looks around the room, trying to figure out if irony is going to be on the test.
"MY friends," I say arms raised to the class, "surely this professor has a plan to make this class run smoother than seems possible, maybe she trained a parrot to speak for her."
I look around the room and then turn to Matsuratomatisumatomoto, "Where's the parrot?"
The poor professor furrowed her brow. I seem to have made one of those common mistakes that one would make when talking to a non-native speaker, which is using a word that is not a common part of the situation you are in. I could have talked to her about parrots had I met her in the zoo, but this being a classroom; the word wasn't sitting in her queue. Therefore, the class must sit and wait as she scans her database for it.
"I have dog," Matsuratomatisumatomoto offers up as an answer...
"Can the dog speak English?" I ask, hoping for something
"Better than her I bet," jock boy chimes in.
"No Sirry," Matsuratomatisumatomoto says playfully, "Dog can onry da woof woof, no speaka Engrish.
"YOU ARE DEAD LADY," Irony hating jock boy screamed, as Cheerleader hang on girl grabbed his arm,
"NO Don’t, She ain't worth it hunny," she screamed
"Not so fast," I say getting up and walking over to jock boy and cheerleader girl.
I slide my fingers under cheerleader’s grip of jock boy's arm.
"Matsuratomatisumatomoto," I say, "how do you plan on teaching a class bout the sounds of words you can't pronounce?"
I waited and watched the emotions slide over the professor's face, as she tried to put together what was going on. Just as I was about to give up, I saw a serene smile come over her face, the kind that only Asian women can make. It's a smile of knowledge, a smile of assurance, and its soothing effects brought the raging anger of the class to a passive whimper.
She lingered on the calm smile for a moment then said, "OHHHHHHH, dat is ironic." then giggled to herself
"OK," I said prying jock boy from cheerleader girl's grip, "kill her."
Speaking from experience, Matsuratomatisumatomoto’s beat down was one of the top five all time beat downs in history. The sheer brutality of it blew away the prohibitionist’s beat down they received when they propositioned fraternities in the early 20th century to voluntarily go dry. Jock boy's rage was on high flame, worse than the mob of jock boys when they beat down that kid who caught the ball at the red sox/Yankee game.
Nerd boy sat and took notes, as the rest of the class witnessed one of the most epic beatdowns in the history of Jock boys... and the Suffra lit a cigarette.
