The Cast & Constants of a Community College Classroom
Embarking on semester numero dos at the local “Harvard on the Hill” aka College of San Mateo I have become more and more saturated and seasoned with the culture and atmosphere of a community college. Throughout this saturation / seasoning process I have become acquainted and aware of many of the different stereotypical people who inhabit the same classrooms and auditoriums I. I share them with you now:
The Raging Dumbass (douschebagitus-tardspazis)
Sometimes known as the compulsive hand-raiser, this lil fella can be observed leaning over and repeatedly asking his fellow classmate for help something or perhaps me may simply remarking on the presence of trees outside. Raging Dumbass is the reason why teachers take forever to explain their grading policies. Raging dumbass is the person who believes whole heatedly that he/she is the only student in class, therefore, when the teacher asks a rhetorical question, Raging dumbass feels more than obligated to offer a less than revelant answer. Raging Dumbass is the Rod Farva of community college.
Hyphy Squad ( macdrewannabea – speakerblownicus )
Next on the menu we have the Hyphy Squad. You assholes come in early just to occupy the nosebleed section of the auditorium, roughly 100% of you jerkoffs have the backpacks with the built-in speakers that sound like rhino ass blaring “That Go” on repeat. Your all loud. I know it’s hard to stay thuggin when teach is spittin bars about functions and exponents n shit. Thank god for the fusion of keek da sneak and jansport backpacks. Yee bitch.
Overworked, Over-Caffeinated Foreign Math Teacher w/ Tourette’s Syndrome (spazicus-manicuz)
God bless you man, your knowledge and understanding of elementary algebra is commendable, the same goes for your uncontrollable urge to spaz out and clear your throat and bat your chest with your wrist watch. You work at three different community colleges teaching eight classes during the week, you stumble into class everyday like the fuckin Tasmanian devil on crack. I have never seen you without big gulp-sized coffee in your mitt nor have I seen you exhale. You sir are a spazicus-manicuz. Good day sir
Quick, Go Put On Your Leisure Suit!
Between the everyday schooling, the Mon – Fri 7 hour days as Brady, Network Consultant extraordinaire, and my weekend title as Saver of Lives it’s a bitch to find time to cool out with the buddies, much less post about it. Seems like all the original gangstas are away at REAL colleges while me and Ian get our community college education at 8 bucks / credit. When I heard that Ally was home for the the weekend from SF State I pounced on her to hang out. Her reaction was less than enthusiastic, evident here, in this. When I wasn’t busy terrorizing pour Ally I could be found at 5story with Pinky practicing our Top Gun routine. RIGHTEOUS!
Got a chance to chill with Nat Queen Cole as well, talkin, bullshittin, laughin, throwin shit offa 5story, swimming back up into her birth canal, jus hangin out.
Jus last weekend I had the pleasure of coolin out at Umpy’s house, with the likes of Gannon, Josh, who reminds me of that dude from Half Baked who lives on the couch. It was a laid back night till Umpy caked a 25 year old attendee and relocated him to the kitchen floor shattering tasteful kitchenware in the process. I’d say that was the closet thing to an ol fashion cowboy saloon bar brawl I will ever see. After I sampled some full bodied Jamaican lager and successfully upgraded his router’s firmware I excused myself from the festivities and retreated to my car to begin the short drive home only to find my car enveloped in a new glossy finish. Not too many silkworms where I’m from so I figured I had been wrapped! Now I can think of far more useful applications for the wrap of seran but I guess Ian had other plans. With the help of Mr. Gannon I was able to get what seemed no less than 5 pounds worth of the wrappy substance from my car’s immaculate body. G’times.
Sexy Seven Fiesta
“Beer before liquor, never been sicker” was the theme that seemed to prevail over this eventful and chunks-filled night. It was to be a celebration of the Sexy Seven, a septuple group of elite females who each posess there own unique bit of sultriness and spice. The damn thing was thrown by none other than K-Dubb & Adam while it was held at casa de la A-Ryda. The night progressed through a blurry gradient for those who chose to abuse liquid substances and a series of colorful ripples for those who chose the inhalable substances. We played some dumbass drinking game in which you hold up a finger for everything you have done for example, in this pic Matty is holding up two fingers denoting that he has both received and performed a rim job. I brought my my pimp hat which really seemed to do the trick. Near halfway into the festivities, the liquor took hold and I summonded some of my super sloshed strength to hoist up some chicolitas and get a little man ass on the couch. This pic shall always warrant a giggle. Heres a dramaization of how I did at the party overall. FAILURE. Ash’ms got gum in Joe’s dew so then we went outside to talk about how it made us feel, twas an emo moment an a somber, bittersweet end to a crazy alcohol ridden night. This Irishman has learned his life lesson. All apologies to those who caught a hairy glimpse of my coinslot arse hole while I leaned on Amanda’s fence for moral support.
Click HERE to see all the pics from the Sexy 7 Party.
And heres a nice vid of Timmay & Rob Young cuttin rug after a visit with Jack Daniels & Capt Morgan:
Hip Hop Anonymous & The Rock Show
I’ve been to a lotta shows in my day, from Bruce Springsteen to KoRn to Mr. Scribble. I went to my first show long before the first hair sprouted out of my ass, I saw KISS when I was the tender age of eight at the Oakland Arena. 9 years later I returned, this time sportin a hot young female by my side and seeing the Foo, The Weez, & the Heat. We were seated close enough for me to throw my bra at Rivers of Weezer, lucky for him I was free-boobin it. Hot Hot Heat opened, and I gotta say, I don’t normally listen to them but I think they converted me, that curly haired singer has got spunk. I came for Weezer, I left loving what I came for; Weezer kicks the shit out of shit, and the six male strippers only made them rule more. Rivers belting out the beginning of “Say it Isn’t So” damn near floored me, Eebs and I have always been been in agreeance that that is the perfect song. I did enjoy when there were 3 weezer men on drums. Good ol Dave pretended to do be a guitar savvy member of the audience volunteering his abilities to play “The Sweater Song” by Weezer, whipped his hood off and rocked it with rivers, oh weezer how much ass kicketh thou? Foo Fighters took over keeping the flame burnin Dave killin his axe and banged his head very hard.
Ya’ll crackers and honkeys like the angry rap music? Booty shakin beats? Her humps? Her lovely lady lumps? If you do, I can’t imagine you would care for our schools hip hop club, composed of the elite freestylers, the flowers, the poets, and the hip-hoppers. If your into some of the greats like San Juan – straight out of madtown, Raul – the prolific poet lacing his insight with complex rhymes, Delee – the cracker, and the Incredible Fejj – the self proclaimed “Jeffrey, sicker than leprosy don’t step to me or you’ll get dropped like ectasy.” Basically what we’ve got here is hip hop to the ears, and you it beats thizzin anyday. Even the Wannabe westsiders from the east side get off on it. I filmed the first flow session during lunch period and this is the product, download it if you know whats good for you, if it doesn’t play download this first
On top of everything else, me, Pinky and Randy got together for a latenight run the other night, I gotta say I’ve missed those sonsa bitches and I know you bitches have too. We blew up this little missle shooter firework thing in the college parking lot, it tipped over upon ignition and shot tiny little firework projectiles at us as we scurried into Randy’s mom’s minivan and sped off. Badass.
Party tonight. Rock and roll everyday.
– Racial Slur Database
– Super cool costumes!
– This I don’t understand
– Jello SF