There's this boy in my Psych class, let's call him Larry. Larry because I think that name has a significant amount of annoyance already attached to it and also because I don't know the kid's name. But I do know his voice. I would know his voice if I were chained up and blinded folded in communist China. He would say something and I would say, "Fuck. Larry's here."
Anyway, back to this kid. Actually, no, not kid. We're going to call him a little eager beaver.
Can I just say, Larry, with all your respect, I do not pay $50,00o dollars and wake up at 8 am to hear your unintelligible commentary during my lecture? Not that I don't think the Professor completely appreciates your 2 cents- no, scratch that-20 dollars and 2 cents, worth of useless annotations, usually having nothing to do with subject, but honestly, if I have to hear you say, "This kind of has to do with..." or "An example of this would be..." one more time, I'm going to chuck my Five Star notebook at you. So kindly I ask you to sit down, shut up, and sleep through the 8 am just like everyone else.
Speaking of overachieving annoyances, there's this little 85 pounder in my ballet class who I just might pluck off the bar and chuck into the pool, conveniently located down the hall of the studio. Not that we all don't completely appreciate your perfect plies and demis, Miss black leotard and pink tights, but I would just like to point out, because I don't think you got the flier, we are in BEGINNER'S ballet. Though I ignore the fact I can barely touch my toes, my turns usually take out a couple ballerinas, I have absolutely no idea what the hell a "su-su" is and I wear socks for ballet shoes, I will not fail to remember, nor remind you, that if I sit on you, you will die. So don't tempt me.
On a more positive note, Triathlon clothes came in! I can officially sit in the athlete's section of the cafe without feeling like a complete poser. Actually...I probably won't because I'm downright terrified of the athletes. Probably because their bandaged and iced bodies, I can't imagine what they do to have to have ice packs strapped to their butts and backs, but I'm pretty sure I want nothing apart of it. Regardless, nothing is more badass than a Varsity Triathlon Team hoodie.
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