Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Dana From Decatur Goes Old School. December Always Brings Us Nearer the Breaking Point.

Frida the Fucktard
Wow, this is just great. No, really. Super. You turned in three pages for your final, eight-page research paper. You have three sources. One is Wikipedia. I mean, this just screams “I don’t give a shit.” Which I assume is what you must have been going for, because, well, there’s just no other way to read this paper. So, I’ll thank you kindly to continue not giving a shit (read: under no circumstances do I want to hear from you) when you receive this F. And seriously—don’t even think about emailing me and asking why.

Adam the Asshole
I was elated to receive your awesome research paper. You’ve been such a joy in class—what with the eye-rolling and the snotty little attitude you bring with you every goddamn day—that I couldn’t wait to see what you had in store for me here. And Asshole, you did not disappoint. You had the full eight pages, right? I mean, never mind that your title is two lines long in size fifty-seven font. And never mind that your margins are 2.5 inches, and you have an “excerpt” that goes on for the entirety of page 4. I didn’t even notice that. Riiiight. Cuz I’m an idiot, and you’re certainly the first person who’s ever thought of trying those clever little tricks. Oh. No, wait. You’re the idiot. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I hope this grade conveys my sentiments.

Ira the Ingrate
Remember when you dropped off your final assignment in my office? You know…it was after having missed class for the third straight week? And I said “Where’s the other half of this assignment?” And you looked at me with that dopey little ingrate face and said something to the effect of “mumblemumblemumbelForgot it at homemumblemumble.” And when I suggested that you retrieve it, you just sighed one of your exasperated sighs and said “I could. I just really don’t want to.” Well, that was an excellent final impression to leave on me, Ira. Really, really top notch. So I’m just calculating grades, and you know, I could boost your participation so that you would actually pass this class. I could. I just really don’t want to.

Liza the Loser
Oh my god, I totally know. You were so gonna write and turn in this paper on time, and it was gonna be totally awesome, but then your boyfriend was, like, being a total dick, and then your manager called and made you work thirty extra hours this week, and then, ohmigod, you almost forgot about the fact that your dad went totally freaking spastic on you the other night, and to top it all off you were on your way in to write the paper when your car died, and then your uncle had to come out and look at it, but he totally didn’t know what was wrong, so you were just stressing out, and…Liza, please. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You’re making my ears bleed. It’s over. You’re done. I don’t care. No paper, no grade. Just add me to your list of people/things that are, like, totally screwing you over. Cuz I’m out, bitch. Keep it real, keep it fresh, just keep it the fuck away from me.