This is how

My summer class goes: I arrive 10 minutes before it begins. I am a punctual mofo. The first half hour of class I am engaged with the material being taught. The next hour I struggle to stay awake. There is only so much I can take. I'm only human. Instead of putting my head down on the desk to get shut eye, I sit up and put my left hand horizontally over my eyebrows, and tilt is enough so my eyes are closed. I use my elbow for support. I mix in a rubbing motion. This gives the professor the illusion that I am distraught and/or in deep thought. It's a method I've been perfecting for many years. The only problem is that my elbow which is the main support of this shenanigan, starts to relax and give way as I get more relaxed and come closer to falling in deep sleep. This wakes me up and causes my body to jerk. I'm working on cutting down on the violence of the jerking. That sounded wrong. After this segment of the class, Mr. I Say Stupid Shit Outloud starts his show. This fellow starts to speak about things that are completely unrelated to the course. Some of these things include: area codes, restaurants, banks, loans, the strait of Gibraltar, etc. It's like somebody took Google and beat it over the head repeatedly with a sledgehammer. He also likes it to be known that he has traveled the country and has attended many different institutions of learning. But that's not what bothers me about him. What I despise about him is his greasy hair. He has curly bangs that are covering a forehead that is most likely covered in acne. He looks like an extra from Saved by the Bell: The Early Years. An occasional appearance is made by Sir I Come To Class Rarely But I Pretend To Know The Course Material Jr. He tries to loudly give an answer to any question posed to the class. His confidence rivals that of a Subway customer who knows exactly what they want even before stepping inside the restaurant. When he finds out he was wrong, he pretends as if he never uttered a word. His head is covered in a Jew-Fro Sicilian low-level mobster hybrid congregation of hair. That's why I don't like him. Then we have Mr. GiggleBox McHugh. This guy will laugh at anything and everything people say. I sit behind him, so when he laughs at what I say, I have to lie to myself and think that I'm genuinely funny to this person. Then he soon shatters my self-esteem when he laughs at other peoples comments. This is disappointing. He has hair that resembles the fur of a mature Kodiak Bear who has just awoken from hibernation. Then there's my homie who sits next to me. He has blonde hair which he takes care of. So he's cool. He sees the oddity and overall stupidity that we sit around. He is much more vocal than I am in his disdain in disapproval of the social context of the room, especially towards Mr. I Say Stupid Shit Outloud. If this continues, shit just might get real. I'll keep you posted on that. Last week I struck up a conversation with another student who sits by me after I found out he attended the same high school as me. He has about the same haircut as me, so he's good people. Then a portly gentleman who sits in front of the class. He purchased a textbook which isn't required. Two bad signs right there. The conversation I was having was kept at a low level, but Mr. Borderline Obesity, who has tattoos probably of deserts turned around and said "SHHHHH!" Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shh me panchode. I'm a grown ass man. I let it go decided it would be the best thing to do. His hair is thinning and looks like he should have given up his dream to be a rock star 20 years ago. When class was over about 20 minutes later, I was with my homie and high school buddy. I brought up the situation of what had occurred earlier. My homie shouted that he was an idiot who was going to bust his ass for a C, and he was just jealous that we mess around and do well in the course. This made me feel a bit better, but he didn't stop there. He indirectly suggested that we stomp him out(urbandictionary that term) to teach him a lesson. No way man. I'm not trying to go to jail. I'm too gangsta for prison. I laughed it off to show him I had no interest in his plan. The summer is going by pretty fast. Not sure if I'm actually learning anything though. I am Baliwala. Based on the hair descriptions in this post, and the the fact I judge peoples characters based upon that, you probably think I attend a cosmetology school, and you might be correct. That is all.