Everyone report to classroom no. 32!

          "English department of our college is graced with a wide specter of extremely attractive, educated and above all, capable women. That's why our English classes are so visited. When it comes to attractive male professors, generally on our college, we get to see them as often as Blair gets to see a penis. I'll mention couple of those worth mentioning.

           The first one is Prof. Monty. He's a good lecturer; really interesting, cheerful, funny, outgoing. However, there's one trait that particularly sticks out. I don't exactly know how to delicately put this... No, wait. I've got it. I've mentioned that Christian, Alecia and I had on one occasion Googled average penis size of countries in Europe. Croatian average is 12.60cm. Let's just say that without Prof. Monty, that average would be substantially lower. Also, we've made his fan club on Facebook. Alecia is the main administrator. The profile picture she had so carefully selected for that fan club contains 6 people holding an anaconda. Nuff said. I have never met a man who has so much self-confidence. I mean, it's obvious that he sheets it in his pants, but it still amazes me. I recall one of his first lectures when all of us jumped into our own asses by deciding to sit in the first row. For the first 30 minutes, everything was tranquil and in perfect order. We had been paying attention and taking notes. Suddenly one of us gazed at his crotch; I think it was Alecia. That was the end of it. She couldn't stare away from the monster gazing at her. Suddenly everything around us was in a haze and we couldn't control our eyes. No matter where we forced ourselves to look, our glances would viciously wander back to Prof. Monty's lower region. That experience was beyond belief; it was a conspiracy; it was in possession of hypnotic powers, I was most certain. Do you know that situation when you're somewhere outside, looking around, trying to find someone even remotely attractive and when you do, you always seem to connect gazes with that ugly, bald, pale man standing next to them? And every time you try looking at the handsome guy, you catch the attention of the unattractive specimen next to him. Eventually, the ugly dude thinks you want him and you're screwed. This was one of those situations, only in this scenario, Prof. Monty himself was that ugly, bald, fat dude. Anyway, we kept giggling in a very girlish manner every time we'd cast a glance towards the bulge in his pants. I was convinced that even if he twisted it twice around his leg he's still have trouble walking. 

          Next. Before that new jelly professor of English Language Practice, the only younger one we had was Handy Man. There's a reason why we call him that. He's small, bald, oily, ugly and we presume that he never had sex... with a woman. The only person he services is himself - hence the nickname. Few semesters ago, I discovered his profile on Facebook, back when it was still public. It was full of inappropriate photos. There was one where he was drunk, passed out, sitting on the floor against a radiator, with his head slightly leaned forward and his hand still clutching a beer mug. I saved that photo and distributed it around. After this, his profile turned private. Only Babka, George and Dwayne Marley were allowed to see his private photos (they treat professors on Facebook just like Ash treats his Pokemons - gotta catch them all)."

          For us bums, this academic year has started with a week of delay. We didn't feel quite ready to start  with classes last Monday, with the rest of the responsible fellow students, so we took an additional week of rest to psychologically prepare for what's to come. Our reunion occurred few days ago, when most of us attended a class called Modern childhood. I never thought I'd say this, but I would rather have a horde of raging baboons ass-rape me with rusty, old barb-wire while reciting Hitler's speeches in German than attend that class again. Our professor, who probably hit puberty at the same time the black plague hit England, managed to ruin yet another potentially interesting and useful class. She probably has less sex than Blair (if that's even possible) which is making her so irritating that we have even began dwelling on the idea of brutally clobbering her and hiding her body under a carpet. I can't understand that woman... and when I say understand, I don't mean her behavior or attitude. I literally DON'T UNDERSTAND WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF HER MOUTH. I wouldn't mind it so much if she just stuffed in an English word here and there, but she literally rapes Croatian language with English expressions as she speaks. Last year, we took notes on all of her classes, but to no avail; May had to translate them for THAT Croatian to normal Croatian. Also, she carelessly uses English expressions in wrong contexts so we sometimes get sentences like; "You need to take your time and finger only one small child at a time." She meant to say 'point at'. Her classes indeed leave more traumatized victims than the atomic bomb left in Hiroshima.

          After that class, we even managed to get Alecia out of bed. It was 3PM. We invited her for a beer and then went to the apartment to get some coffee. Soon enough, an idea formed in our twisted little heads. Harris, Alecia and I began talking Blair into bringing her new boyfriend over for a cup of coffee and a sober introduction. I don't know what possessed her to consent to that. The last time I dared to introduce them to my boyfriend, they ended that meeting by presenting him with their imaginary list of STDsfacepalming. It was really fun to watch Blair squirm and sweat. 

          We had Prof. Monty today. His class is called "Love, Sex and Marriage in Milton's 'Paradise Lost'". The class was boring so Alecia and I kept staring at his penis and laughed. We signed up for an oral presentation. Alecia took something decent, while I chose the topic called: "Sex in public places and marital problems". It's going to be fun if he ever asks "Who has sex in public?", I'm gonna have to say: "I do."... which isn't that far from the truth.