In a Comparative Ethnic Studies class, some kid raised his hand to share the following gem:
"I feel that as a white middle-class male, I am discriminated against by society."
This comment was met with bewildered silence.
Overheard this gem in the lunch line between a boyfriend and girlfriend:
"Hey baby, what are SHTEM cells?" (Yes, she pronounced "stem" as "shtem.")
"They take the cells from the fetus and use them to cure diseases."
"Fetus and feces are the same thing right?"
This is the same girl who thought a tampon was a pill.
I had to take a 9th grade World History class when I was in 11th grade due to conflicting graduation requirements from my old school system. I was kind of bummed that I couldn't get into the honors-level WH course, but the entertainment from some of my classmates more than made up for it. On the first day, the teacher had us each fill in one of those blank world maps with as many countries, mountains, rivers, landmarks, etc. as we could in about 10 minutes. I've been a big geography wonk since I was 5, so I filled out a ton of stuff and passed it up.
Some of the other people in my row though... Australia labelled with 'Japan', all of North America labelled with one big 'US', South America labelled as 'Aftrica' (sic). It must've been a night of hard drinking for that teacher after she looked at those.
World History class, talking about the French Revolution, completely out of the blue:
"Had people invented how to swim by this time?"
Yeah, that had most the class baffled.
"But the Romans weren't really that advanced, I mean they didn't even have computers!"
"Is Galileo still alive?"
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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