And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
Dear unwashed hippie sitting in front of me this morning:
I didn't get a chance to thank you this morning for showing up to our Chemistry test in your particular... "aromatic" condition. Your all-night effort to free your consciousness from the chains of unaltered perception (and your body from the chains of soap) was a great help to me and the other students sitting in your vicinity.
Thanks to you and your radiating stench of pot and stale sweat, we couldn't tell the difference between quarks and Mr. Creosote, much less 87Sr and 60C. I think about halfway through, I gave up on attempting to answer questions, and started filling in the Scantron bubbles to make foul words.
That tiny little bandana you're wearing as a hairnet today isn't helping you either, girl. It only serves to accentuate the nappiness of your pseudo-dreds.
Furthermore, I also blame you for this. Whatever connection you have to the Broccolis, you need to work it like your momma did the UPS guy and fix that shit.
1 Comments:
I like hippies but not really smelly ones, there used to be this guy in one of my lectures who sat near me who stank so badly that I couldn't concentrate, I remember telling this to some of my friends when we were drinking at the union bar and they didn't believe me so they came with me to the lecture for a joke and couldn't even last 10 minutes
- Rachy
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