Front Row Views: Volume 5

Back again with more snarky comments. Honestly I’m shocked y’all like reading this stuff. Which is basically all the stuff I want to say to your face, but can’t because it might hurt your feelings. Was that harsh? I’m writing this way past my bed time…. any-who… on with the commentary! Here is Volume 5 of Front Row Views! Did I call you out this week? Let me know!

Professor asked how many people smoked in class and no one raised their hands, including cigarette loving blondie, who actually put her head down to hide. Girl you ain’t playing no one — I can smell your stench from here.

Home boy in front of me started watching the male genital exam video. At 9 A.M. My eyes were not ready for that. This will be a fun 20 minutes.

He’s not even watching it now he is napping. BOI CAN YOU NOT?! This is not what I signed up for.

There is a student in my neuroscience sessions that I like to bully. Mainly because I know the guy, but also because why not?

The British kids are still happy. Who are these people and what happy drugs do they take everyday?

Path lab is that time where I could focus and learn the material, but instead look for troll memes and watch basketball. I definitely have my priorities straight.

My friends and I have come to the point where we just have to look at each other in order to signal food. Advanced telepathy or primitive communication, you decide.

The burger place forgot my ridiculously complex order because I hadn’t been there in a week. I thought we were closer than that guys! #heartbroken

The student I bully in neuroscience decided to give me a hug on my birthday. First rule when it comes to Jasmin — you don’t hug Jasmin. Clearly he didn’t get the memo.

Bully boy decided to ignore the memo and continue hugging me. The event still haunts me to this day.

The dean came to tell the class how we remind him of his children. ‘Whiny and complaining.’ I could not agree more, bro.

The British kids are finally starting to crack. FINALLY.

My roommate has come to the conclusion that if I were to actually drink, I would be an alcoholic, since I’m always double fisting drinks and downing cider bottles like no other. I agree with this statement.

I feel like I would be a very angry drunk. Like how much meaner can I be? The world will never know.

I decided to participate in the Indian Cultural Show, meaning I had to not look like my normal potato self. No one recognized me. NO ONE. I guess I have an alter ego.

Having to define what ‘getting laid’ means to Queen B is probably the most awkward yet most satisfying experiences I will ever have. Mainly because of her utterly shocked and horrified facial expressions.

Alter ego me managed to have a 10 minute conversation with a TA until the TA realized they were talking to me. Guys, contouring and baking WORK. I can get away with so much now.

My friend and I found floating chairs and proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon basking in the sun. Who needs medical school when you can sizzle and burn?

I taught one of the British kids (lets call them Dhillon) Punjabi slang, which he now uses against Queen B. I see a power change in this dynasty very soon.

Queen B was bullying Dhillon, as usual. Dhillon, with a straight face, told Queen B to “shut her mouth” in Punjabi, leaving her speechless. This was a proud moment for me as a teacher.

I came to my review session and some of the students said I looked different (since my hair was still curled from the show). Alter ego me has come out again.

I’ve hit the point in the term where eating has become an extracurricular activity rather than a required course.

My friends and I have become so addicted to coffee that when we drink it, we get belly aches. But when we don’t we get headaches. Straight to the bathroom we go!

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