Entry 3

Generally as the day of scholastic monotony drones on students seem to become restless, bored, and half the time just outright useless. The fact of the matter is that unless an individual has something of interest to stimulate their mind, they walk through their days wondering what they are doing on campus. This is not to say that education is useless, because it isn’t. This is to say that the majority of students have to take a large number of classes that are not of interest but are of requirement and we all understand this.
The question we are left with is how do we break the monotony? Where is a place we can go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came? Where is a place that no matter what time of which day there will be another human present with at least one commonality? Well, this is the third entry in this ongoing diary so to reiterate the location that fits all of the above requirements would be a tad redundant. So I’ll spare you.
On Wednesdays I’ve got a four hour break in between my classes and I live about a half hour away so instead of losing my parking spot and hanging out at home for a mere couple of hours, I hang out in my hut. It was this past Wednesday, October 21st I realized that there were a few topics of discussion that tend to be recurring and honestly, I’ve no clue as to why.
In the Classroom Medical hut, depravity means nothing. First and foremost, the exchange of off-color jokes flows freely and willingly. Everybody is always waiting to hear the most offensive dead baby joke, the most up and coming Helen Keller joke, everyone likes a good Terri Schiavo joke once in a while to further ignite the offensive fire.
On a particularly beastly day of nonchalant disregard to the majority of humanity, the conversation took probably the worst turn that I’ve ever witnessed. Gimp Chris, one of the four gentlemen by the name of Chris who are in regular attendance of the hut, openly stated his willingness to attend to future desires of bestiality given the circumstance that he would have enough money to have a dolphin readily available at his disposal.
The majority of the hut looked at him, the disgust visible in their eyes. If I recall correctly a couple of people even left (this may have been a different day though… since that barrier was broken, it’s all just gone downhill) the hut because the amount of disgust they were ridden with in regard to Gimp Chris was so large, words could not muster the exchange that should have occurred.
It is my belief that the bizarreness effect of communication has happened here. Generally, none of us remember a single thing Gimp Chris says. He’s a good guy, yes, but man does he talk a lot. Don’t worry, these are all issues that we’ve addressed with him before. He is well aware of the hut’s feelings toward him. But ever since he unexpectedly decided to announce his billowing desire to engage in interspecies erotica with a majestic creature of the sea… I, at least, attend to a much larger number of words that exit his mouth.
The moral of this story? To get anybody to listen to you… say something REALLY messed up. Freak someone out once on a scale like this, and they’re yours. I’m sure we will all go back to ignoring Gimp Chris eventually but for now we find ourselves waiting for something to top this.