Well, well, well! Here it is the end of the semester and you, my little darlings have finally figured out that I have an office. And that I am actually in my office during the office hours I put on the syllabus. Yes, I know you never came to them before, but that gave me the opportunity to grade your papers and presentations without having to contaminate my home with your complete lack of grammar, spelling, and logic acumen.
I’m glad, because that allowed me the freedom to do the shit I wanted to do at home. You know, like read Ashcraft and Mumby’s tome on gender
, work on manuscripts for submission to QI and Leadership and drink gratuitous amounts of The Glenlivet. For that I will forever be grateful.Now, however you want my help. You want me to save you from yourselves. It is little late for that ladies and gentlemen. You spent half the semester in a big circle jerk of hilarity. You sat there like frogs on a log. Actually the Budweiser frogs would have contributed more to the class. You didn’t read. You didn’t ask questions. Sucks for you.
No. I have no idea how many absences you have. I tally those up at the very end of the semester. You will find out once I post the attendance participation grade at the end of finals week. You didn’t keep track? Sucks for you.
You didn’t bring notebooks, so you didn’t take notes. And no I won’t post my notes on Blackboard before the final exam. Why? Because you would never be able to understand them. You see, I know my shit and all I bring to class is a rough outline in my own chicken-scratch shorthand. From there I riff on the day’s topic. Having my notes will do you no good, because I don’t actually use notes. Sucks for you.
You want an extension on the final paper. I’m sorry. You have had five weeks to work on this paper. Five!! Now you think you might have to change topics because you ‘can’t find any research’ on the topic you chose. I don’t believe that. I know you surf the web with ease. After all, I saw you playing fucking Farmville during another student’s presentation. Sucks for you.
Maybe you will learn something from this. Maybe you will learn that your education is mostly your responsibility, not mine. Maybe you’ll learn that you can’t put in a piss poor performance like this when you go out there into the work world despite the fact that you never heard the words “You’re a loser Bobby!” ( If not, it sucks for you.
Alton from Apollo Beach
