“You’re Narrow-minded.” HOW DARE YOU

“Maybe you’re just narrow-minded.”

She said it bluntly, it was so blunt. So blunt.

Not that I minded, of course. The professor never minds.

But it did throw off my groove, if I’m completely honest.

Yes, the professor usually functions in some sort of groove.

Now, here’s the thing, you see: It’s not that I was insulted, it’s just that I wasn’t sure what to say.

Previously, the professor had been winning the war of words.

But the line she delivered was a sinker.

I had to act and act fast.

So, I said the only thing I could think of:

“What was that?”

She sighed, gave me a look of annoyance, put her hands on her hips, and said: “I SAID, if you think you’re always right, you’re probably a bit narrow-minded.”

And then the words I needed came to me in a gust of inspiration.

I was searching for a gif to put there and this is what popped up. I completely agree with this statement.

“Look here,” I began, “firstly first, I’m always right because if I wasn’t right for one split second, why then I’d be wrong, and if I was wrong, why then it would mean I wasn’t right, and how could that possibly be the case when we just all agreed that I was right when I’m right which is pretty much all the time?”

See what I did there? Lots of words. I must admit, I said nothing, but it sounded like I said something. Plus–ultra cool–I said that we all just agreed on what I said, which included her.

That caught her up nice and fluffy.

“But…but…” she said.

I said nothing. #professorwins

“But you might be narrow-minded, then.”

“Then we all probably are, since we all just agreed I’m usually right.”

Moral: If you’re ever not sure what to say, say it all and say it quick.

What is this, do you suppose?

So, yes, that’s the question. What is this, do you suppose?

Now, there could be a few answers to that question.

But I’m talking about the long, stringy, green plant-like thingy in the forefront of the picture.

Dost thou know?

I’m not sure either.

Someone mentioned an onion.

I don’t believe it, of course.

After all, this is an onion:

Ew no! I meant this:

This is a great lesson why never to search for things on google. You might get anything.

Here we are:

Now I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

So, here, dadblame it all.

Naked Mole Rat

The Krampus vs. Santa Claus

Okay, so here it is:

The professor is somewhat obsessed with the Krampus.

Why, you may ask?

Because I fear he might be coming.

See, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Krampus, it’s a beast that punishes bad children at Christmas time.

Santa Claus gives presents to the good children, but the Krampus beats them (with logs, I think) or carries them away to that fiery place.

Now, this is the Krampus and Santa Claus in one pic. It took me forever to find SC. He’s in the back with a funny hat on.

Hard to see, but here’s the Krampus leading away a bunch of children.

Not very scary. Why, I’d fetch that brute right out. But the Krampus is scarier in other pictures, I must admit.

Krampus likes snow thingies.

Krampus needs a dentist.

Now, we must get back to what this professor was saying above. I said I feared this chap was on his way.

And it’s true.

See, we’re all naughty, I think, so that means the Krampus is coming. I’m giving you a heads-up to prepare.

Sharpen your swords and get ready.

One last thing.

If Santa…

…was to square off against the Krampus, I’m betting on Santa. Who do you suppose would win the fight?

Also, if you’re interested…

The Professor & Yoga

I’ll be quite honest, the sudden: This professor has had trouble separating Yoga and Yoda.

And I’m not sure why.

After all, the similarities end at the names. I mean, could you really see Yoda making these sort of moves?

Is this a guy or girl, do you suppose?

Yeah, me neither. And this brings us to a great fact of life: Yoda is the most un-agile creature ever–unless he’s fighting Count Dooku.

But anyways, in order to stop equating yoga and Yoda, this professor stepped into a a Yoda place the other day. I mean yoga.

It was a mistake.

There was a woman in the oddest position ever, stretched out on a mat. But even though she was seemingly tied up in a not, she was up and facing me in less than a second.

In fact, it was so fast, I wasn’t able to respond to her question.

I was still in shock, see.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

She just stood there smiling.

Eventually: “Yes, you see, what’s the principle difference between Yoga and Yoda?”

It was a bad first question, I admit.

She laughed a bit. “Are you looking to get into Yoga?”

Then I got my professorish momentum back. “Oh no,” I said, beginning to walk about  the place.

See, never stand straight without moving. This allows the other person the upper-hand. If you’re constantly moving about, the other person is immediately put on the defense. Since they have to follow you about and speak to you at the same time.

That’s a hard thing to do. Especially for girls.

Sure enough, she started to follow me about. I was also spying while walking. Good time to spy.

“Then…” She seemed confused. “Can I help you?”

“Not at all, you know,” I said. “I just wanted to see if anyone actually did Yoga.”

I looked about the empty room.

“The class is in a few hours.”

“How many guys do it?”

She was perplexed. “A…few?”

“How many professors?”

“What?”

“Good day, madam.”

I was able to keep the attacker off-balance and spy at the same time.

It was a good day.

Conclusion: Both Yoda and Yoga share another similarity; the force is a part of both, and will end up destroying both. 

The Meeting: Blood Transfusions

My name tag said “Darnell Thomas” and I didn’t mind.

This is unusual.

Usually, this professor likes his name best.

But there was some sort of ring to Darnell Thomas. (Could also stand for Defensive Tackle.)

Mr. Vince W. DT.

Anyways and some, I had snuck into some sort of conference and I was going to make the most of it.

I found a seat and sat, quicker than melting lava.

And what luck: as soon as I had sat, the meeting began.

An old woman–with flaming green hair–she must dye it, see–stood behind the podium, and started having speaks.

“Welcome everyone,” she said.

She spoke softly, but there was a scary tone in her voice.

In other words, if this professor was down an alleyway, and she was there, I’d run.

“First order of business,” she continued, “is this: We shall find out what blood type you are, then we will effectively start the transfusions.”

She stepped down from the podium, and this professor broke out into a sweat.

Transfusions? That was ghastly, scary, and horrid.

And at that minute, the real Darnell Thomas came in. He was carrying a Chihuahua.

(Okay, time out for a minute. ‘Chihuahua’ is not worth the trouble it takes to spell it. Dadblameit!)

Now, I knew it was Darnell Thomas because he was being chased by security. As soon as he came running in, I jumped up.

The Chihuahua bounded out of his arms and jumped on me, ripping at me with his sharp teeth.

I yelled “enough!” twice, but he didn’t seem to mind. Then I found out ‘he’ was a ‘she’ and it was even worse.

Darnell Thomas–the real one–was coming for me, but the security got him, and the dog, and dragged them out.

Probably to jail.

“Sorry for that, Mr. Thomas,” said the green-haired woman, who was, the sudden, standing next to me. “Will you give your announcement now?”

So I strode up to the podium, and said:

“I don’t think we should do anymore blood transfusions. Look what happened to the Incas.”

And I left.

[NOTE: It turns out, my line of reasoning with regards to the Incas and blood transfusions is quite flawed. See, the Incas actually had great success performing blood transfusions, way before blood types were even studied. This is because the Inca population had only two different blood types: A and O. Therefore, they did rather well at the practice. Of course, I’m sure the green-haired lady, or anyone else at the meeting, didn’t catch my mistake.]