Saturday, January 28, 2006

It's that time again...Time to haterate the classamates.


- Yes, a new semester is upon us, and that means two things, time to throw-up in class because you are still drunk from the night before and time to pass judgment on my classmates based soley on their looks and demeaners!!! YAY!!!

- STUPID SORORITY GIRL- Yes, it's great that you get gang banged on a nightly basis by the Beta brothers, what is not great are those bright magenta stretch velour sweatpants you have been trying to pull off. They are way too small for you honey, and camel toes are not required on the syllabus, so why are you bringing them to class. Hoe, you are a college student, not a highlighter. You make me want to shoot your ass out of a flare gun with those blinding pants. Oh and the "JUICY" logo printed all over your ass is tres classy. I hope a baboon tries to butt rape you.

- KID WHO WEARS NOTHING BUT MARYLAND LOGO CLOTHES- Jesus fucking Christ, lemme guess, you are a freshman, or better yet, a transfer student. You are totes in love with our great University and want the world to know. That's great and all but I think that you have coordinated your outfit a tiddle bit too much. Terps sweats, Terps windbreaker, Terps hat, Terps bookbag, Terps SCARF??!!??? It's like the fucking campus gift shop sprouted legs, a shitty complexion and decided to take classes. Please get yourself to the nearest J. Crew. I only pray to God that you try to ride the metro in that get-up, I give you two stops before you get dragged off the train and curb-smiled by the locals.

- BASKETBALL STAR- Jesus fucking Christ you are a tall mutha fuckah. Now I thought I was tall but when you come to class and have to duck when you come in the door, it's time to take the whole "giant" deal down a notch. Did your father (which you probably never met) use steroids instead of lube when he impregnated the giant spaceage robot you call mom? From now on please sit in the back of class, that swoll melon you call a head effectively blocks 90% of the blackboard. We are here to get an education knot to look at the back of your batcave of a head.

- TEXT MESSAGE KID- WOW, you have a cell phone, WOW you have friends, WOW you are too cool for school you have to constantly text message your little testicle cupping circle jerking group of friends every 5 seconds to check in with them? You are sooo well versed in text messaging that you don't even have to look at your phone while sending a message, which I am sure gets you hella lots of ass. Newsflash Johhny Number 5, you are disturbing EVERYONE in class with your lightning skills on the phone touchpad. And what is better? Your down syndrome ass giggles after every message that your "crew" sends you. Unless it's an emergency, please put the phone away and pay attention. I will not be tutoring another retarded classmate this semester because they couldn't remove their phone from their lives for 50 minutes and pay attention. Do everyone a favor, blindfold yourself, run into traffic, and stay there until someone hits you.

- YARMULKE GUY- So you are one of the chosen people? Then why does your God-cap have NY METS #1 written in puffy paint on it. Totes not cool. I don't think our collective higher power would appreciate you using your yarmulke as a fucking billboard for a sports team. Do you have other ones with other artistic slogans on them? I want you to wear one that says, "Hell, That's Hot", or "I am a retard". Please don't EVER reproduce.

- SASSY BIG BLACK GURL- I am sooo in love with you. From your barely there baby tee, to those parasucos that must be painted on. You are my new lover. I loved on the first day of class when you squeezed into the little desk and your shirt went up and your pants went down to reveal the finest butt crack that God had ever made. You didn't even have any panties on, cause that's how you roll, which is AWESOME. What's more is that you listen to your ipod really loudly during class (hello, I loves me some Mary J too) , and you don't even try to hide it! Sometimes you sing along while the T.A tries to explain really complex formulaic theories, which is what queens like yourself do, cause you own the class. You dare that mutha fuckin graduate student teaching assistant to step to you. You would totally snap her neck and then steal her shoes. LOVING YOU!!! Your hair has changed 2 times and we have only had 2 classes. The first day, you had like no hair, and the second day you looked like Victoria Gotti. When we all had to introduce ourselves on the first day of class and your interesting fact was that you want to be a lawyer for rappers, I knew you would be my baby's momma. Please can we grab a coffee and gossip about boys and clothes???

3 Comments:

At 12:35 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mr. Man,

After reading several blogs around DC, I've stumbled across your blog...and it's fucking FANTASTIC. You are my new found crack, as I can't wait for your new post.
I wish I were the big sassy black girl so that you could love me in my fabulousness.

 
At 1:18 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

If that's yo choice to be Lil Cornelius' momma then....Please don't EVER reproduce. Even a sperm laced with vodka and cheap wine may eventually hit its intended target.

 
At 9:54 AM, Blogger Taylor said...

Loving the Head of the Class pic btw. I used to love that show and Howard Hessman's knit square-bottomed ties. I had like 10 of them as a kid to wear to church.

Aren't sassy black women fierce? Those two they added to VH1's Best Week Ever are friggin' hilarious ...

 

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