The day leading up to my second class was cold, rainy and quite dreary overall, ominously foreboding what my second class might hold. The thought had occurred to me that this weather might deter my classmates from smoking heavily before we were jammed into our hellish basement room. Unfortunately I underestimated these abhorrent backwoods folk and found that each of them were waiting in their cars, ensconced in thick grey clouds of smoke that would've made smokey the bear shit in his pants. I then casually made my way inside, not worried about my outfit, as I had intentionally dressed in cut off jean shorts and a wwjd tank top. It was cold as shit but I didn't think I could brave such insults as "fancy little bitch" or "obama lover" two weeks in a row.
We then went through the painstaking breathalyzer test, which shockingly nobody failed, and settled in. I intentionally sat near a guy who looked like a pedophiliac dana carvey cause he seemed particularly maniacal that day. Even though this guy had probly smoked like 20 cigs immediately before, he was already beginning to shake and mumble to himself. hell yes. The class then got off to a boring start, with the teacher going into a long explanation of neurons or some garbage. Then things got interesting when a new woman raised her hand to ask a question. and by raised her hand I mean she just started yelling her question like a fucking mongoloid. "well i git that those neutrons do that but what about them gabba jammas?" The teacher looked extremely confused, looked right at her and decided that she was a psychopath that he should ignore. Annoyingly, she persisted and asked the same question like 10 more times, using the word gabba jamma each time. I guess her family just hadn't had any variation in their gene pool for a such a long time that her vocabulary had deteriorated into arbitrary potpourri of clicks and clacks. Eventually the teacher looked back in her direction, with a look of utter disgust and rage, to inform her that the gabba jammas were in fact important, probly hoping that she would finally shut the fuck up. And she did, with an infuriatingly smug look on her face. You win this round you congenital trash.
The teachers then informed us that we would be watching a movie for the remainder of class, thank jesus. But unfortunately my misery didn't subside for long. The rapist sitting next to me began to burp. Just a little at first, but they quickly grew so noxious I could barely fucking breath. I am usually not (to) much of a whiney bitch but I swear to god this guy had eaten a twelve pack of uncooked hot dogs and an entire jar of mayonnaise in his car right before he came in. I was literally solely breathing the disgusting gas from this guys digestive tract for like 5 minutes straight. By the time this barrage had ended, the previously deplorable stench of menthol cigarettes now smelled like an extraordinary infusion of mint and high quality tobacco, with a slightly nutty aftertaste. This was only the second class and I've already hit rock bottom, fuck.
