Brown lays it down

So, recently I had to write a paper for my Human Sexuality class about what I had learned from it. Trouble was, I learned almost nothing. That class was total dogshit. So I improvised. Here are the results:

...wait but first a little back story and my usual caveats. The class really is terrible, I'm not saying this because I'm some total narcissistic cock. At least I hope not. Also my teacher's name was professor Mickes. She was pretty cool, but she did nothing to rein in the baser instincts of the braying jackoffs in her class. Now I really do sound like an asshole. Also there was this fat bearded motherfucker in there who could easily be the most boring human being I've ever met. Most of his conversation consisted of one South Park quote after another.

so here:

Psyc 115: A Retrospective Summary

Dear Mickes,

I'm writing to inform you of a most tragic accident at the Ketchup Factory,
where your Harv works. It seems that at the stroke of twelve on St.
Christopher's Eve, Harv was scraping milk-paste from the refuse barrels, and
though he was uncharacteristically sober, misfortune came in the form of a
seven hundred pound tractor engine pitched over the guardrail by one of the
young giants employed by the factory to guard against raptor attacks.

Harv was crushed to death. He died instantly, and irrevocably, with, I'm afraid, maximum pain and suffering in the roughly half second before he was snuffed for good. Seeing as he was the principle breadwinner in your family, the factory is happy to announce that it will send you henceforth, a monthly care package of one half dozen saltine crackers, a small bottle of commodity black olives, and one package of Capri Sun Citrus Cooler, for the next four months until you get back on your feet. Also, my wife would like to offer you a position as lead serving-wench at our granddaughter's opulent thirty-fifth wedding anniversary this spring.

It is in trying times such as these, that I like to remember the sage words of Franklin Pierce, our 14^th president, when he said “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream”, or something to that effect. Also, I hope you find solace in the worship of your strange pagan idols, and the hymns you sing in that garbled foreign tongue. May you be comforted at the black breast of your many armed she-goat goddess, or at the foot of her son the Redeemer.Also, Mickes, the class you taught on Carnal Knowledge at the Manchester Bestiary was most edifying. I particularly enjoyed the portly bearded fellow who kept muttering South Park references under his breath, hoping that someone, anyone, would give a shit. Also, your insight into multiple male orgasms, was most appreciated in Martha and my marriage bed. Many a cold night did the walls of our dreary manner house reverberate with our decadent groans.

Here's wishing you many gentle seasons.

-Lord Cadmus Winthrop

So there, I just thought it should be saved somewhere. Not like she'll really appreciate it. That is all.