Class...oh, class...
Right now I'm sitting in Communications, on a Monday, and this guy has to be the most irrelevant preacher of anti-modern Journalism tactics I've ever known in my life...
First off, he's like--wha? Ninety?
Second off, he has a voice like freakin Liam Neeson...I'm about to fall asleep, it's like the voice of God.
There's ten minutes left in this class, and I can already tell there's no hope of me walking away from this experience learning anything.
It's because I wasn't taught anything.
Don't get me wrong, this guy is totally nice...
He's like God, your Grandpa, and Liam Neeson all rolled into one.
This combination, though interesting, is a recipe for naps.
It couldn't be anymore perfect...
Soft hum of the air conditioner...the lesson plan being read...the air feels like blankets.
Power nap time.
Pull down the beanie.
Kick it.
FUCK.
It's time to leave already...and I totes forgot there's going to be a test Wednesday...
Onward, Lady Cracker...
University Hath Made Thee Her Bitch.
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