After a heavy Thursday night of drinking I barely made it to my 9:05 class Friday morning. And I mean I barely. I skipped sleeping, showering, breakfast, grabbing my book-bag all to make it to class. But I did make it.
Now my professor is an 80 year old shell of a man. That “I had to walk 8 miles in the snow to school uphill both ways,” kind of old. Add in a hearing aid and you get a loud, deaf, crusty old man hobbling around and yelling about something that I’ll need to teach myself before the next test. Suddenly he stops and proclaims “What’s that smell?”
Not missing the opportunity for validation, a filthy whore says “Oh that’s me, do you like-” and before she can finish the old bag yells “Smells like beer, it’s a little early for drinking ain’t it?”
In her defense I did reek of cheap booze more than she did of cheap perfume, but in my defense fuck her, that was funny.
what'dya mean?
