I absolutely loath being called up to the front of the class. I hate having to be the unfortunate bastard that is being forced to pick up that stupid, purple marker and write a series of numbers on the white board. My hatred for this will never change. It will not change when I know that I got the correct answer. It will not change when the equation is easy. It will not change even when I have been fully capable of simplifying rational expressions and equations for the past 3 years. And it certainly will not change even when I know that not one person in the class (except for that overachieving, bar-raising, bitch Elizabeth) is paying attention. Because, regardless of everything, it's fucking 9 o'clock in the morning and everyone, especially me, would like nothing more than to crawl into my nice, comfy bed--fuck the world--and sleep like a hibernating grizzly bear.
And besides, who says that a student must get out of their seat in order to learn all the required material? Seriously, I'd like to meet this asshole. My ass and my desk have a very strong bond, and breaking that relationship--even if it's only for 2 minutes--is completely unnecessary and uncalled for.
And furthermore, when is alphabetizing your variables a crime? Listen, if you are a little asshole, like that bitch Elizabeth, than Professor Sidewinder has one thing to teach you today: ab2x over 8 is the same as xab2 over 8, and if you think otherwise than you are a fool, who should get slapped in the face (not too hard, but enough to get your head out of your rectum).
I have issues that may or may not affect my work ethic and most certainly affect my personal life.
Good day,
Sidewinder
P.S. I would apologize for not updating in eons, but I highly doubt I have a high enough fan base (or an existing one, for that matter) for that to be necessary...so, go fuck yourself.
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