The Eighth Page

Same Old Drek

So I’m at least pretty sure that Badman and Gabe intend to spend their articles explaining how they never go to class, how they never do their work, how much they like panda bears, and the like. Ergo, rather than bore you with more of the same drek [Editors Note: “Drek”? Not even close Curtis, not even close…], I would like to put it out there right here and now that I do go to class. More often than not, however, classes are merely a precursor to the endless partying that is the overbearing responsibility of being a Features associate. Granted, classes tend to be dull and disgustingly academic, and they get in the way of my wild parties. Thus, somewhere in the middle of Lower year, I thought to myself, “David, these classes are cramping your style. How the heck do you plan to get the babes when you’re stuck in Chemistry class?” It was at this point that I resolved to make classes fun. And while that may sound elementary to those of you reading this with 6.0s and plenty of babes, for me it was a major discovery. On the flip side, you’re reading Features, so it’s probably just as novel to you as it was to me. PWNED. [Editors Note (again): Is the ‘P’ here a typo or Curtis expressing himself through freeform prose? I am at an absolute loss here. Commentary doesn’t have to deal with this kind of crap.] Anyways, I quickly began to make my classes more interesting. There was the time when I built a fort out of desks in the back of math class, complete with a pirate flag and a no girls allowed sign, and proceeded to hide there for the entire class. Then there was the time that I attached that very same pirate flag to the second blackboard in Gelb, and pulled down the first blackboard to cover it. Sure enough, my teacher’s lesson did not go quite as planned; all was going well, up until Blackboard #1 was fully used. Then all hell broke loose: as the Jolly Roger rolled into view, sight of the dreaded skull ‘n bones struck terror into the hearts of my classmates. In the resulting mayhem, three midgets and a squirrel were injured. It was hilarious. Needless to say, I could go on and on, describing to you all of the interesting things which I’ve done to amuse myself during class. By the way, I know what you’re thinking, and that’s gross. Moving on, let me reminisce just a little bit longer. Fast forward to Lower Spring. Babefest 2K5. One day, I decided that it was time to excite my Chem class. So, I brought in a suitcase full of stuffed animals (that I took from my younger brothers, really, they aren’t mine, I swear) and spread them out all over Mr. Cardozo’s desk. As the bell rang, he walked into class, only to be greeted by seventeen of my – or rather, my brother’s – furriest little friends. Naturally, he asked us “Would somebody like to explain this?” to which I frantically replied “OH MY GOD, THEY’VE ESCAPED,” ran up to the front of the classroom, and stuffed my downy pals back from whence they’d came – my pants. It is important to note that I’m banned from the Chemistry floor of Gelb. Hopefully my own various exploits are enough to get you started on your own ways of raising the Fun-O-Meter in your classes. Yet before I go, I would like to mention something semi-relevant which was brought to my attention earlier today. Along with going to class, I have also once been “taken to school.” That is to say, a 6’5” 11-year-old named Johnny Cobra destroyed me at streetball, hitting 10 behind the back half court hook shots in a row. Hold it down, big man… hold it down.