» Your Weirdest Teacher

I just remembered
I'm studying at the moment. At one of those learning houses.
Anyway. This lecturer. For calculus.


Brilliant man.
Most amazing explanations of even the most complicated mathematical concepts, making them seem childsplay.


WEIRD.
Would often invent technical terms for ordinary activities. Taking off his sweater: rearranging thermal absorption materials for optimal operating conditions. Jiggling the projector to get our attention: a bit of photonic agitation stimulus. Exams: the November experience (always).

Apparently used to write things really small, then draw a magnifying glass and inside write the same thing in larger writing.

Would refer to variables as characters, and their relationships and order of importance with social relationships... "Now normally x is getting all the action, with poor little y being the dependent variable. But since this is not integratable, y finally gets its chance to shine, and x has to crawl away and do as y says."

Was trying to get some major astronomical theory he devised approved by the world of science. Every now and then he would give us updates on new evidence that proved he was right and all those fools who doubted him were wrong.

And throw into this mix the odd reference to fruit in diagrams, accompanied with the proper adjustments to make it look more like the fruit he had in mind, without any relevance.

People like this make me want to teach.
(Wed 9th Nov 2005, 15:04, More)

» Have you ever paid for sex?

I paid for a condom once.
Still haven't gotten around to using it though.
(Fri 20th Jan 2006, 0:09, More)

» Putting the Fun in Funeral

The rise of the zombies.
I'm a serial killer.

So last summer I'm walking around on the streets looking for someone to do in. I find a young lady walking in a dark alley, and figuring I've hit jackpot, I move in for the kill. So it turns out she knows how to defend herself or something. I vaguelly remember getting the shit beaten out of me.

Then she ran away, and of course left me in my unconscious state, lying in a strange dark alley. After a while some rats start eating me. I was found in the morning with six broken ribs, a fractured skull, and a large hole in my abdomen where rats had fed on my innards (they were hungry). I was, of course, dead.

Being a serial killer, I didn't have many friends. I made it to my own funeral to see a spectacularily low turnout. A few distant relatives, the priest dude, and some randoms.

It goes about in it's usual fashion, and I am lowered into a grave. Now, for those of you who are not aware, god is dead, so instead of my soul finding heaven (god likes serial killers, read the Bible doofus), it is stuck in my decaying body. Damn.

I'm lying there for a few weeks gradually losing more and more of my wonderful body to various grave-dwelling body-eating things. Then all of a sudden, I hear a voice. A voice telling me to cast down the shackles of the afterlife and rejoin my body. I figure, why the hell not, lying in this coffin is getting pretty boring. With a sudden unexpected strength I break through the top of the coffin and start digging up through the earth.

My hand finally breaking the surface, I use it to pull the rest of myself up. In front of me I see the young lady who led to my death, wearing strange robes and chanting from a big scary book. I decided that revenge was in order so I slowly walked up to her and then took a big bite out of her head, breaking her skull to get to the brains underneath. It turns out that brains taste pretty good!

She agreed with me and to this day we roam the world eating brains and converting people to our righteous cause, as well as fucking like rabbits on the side.

We crash a lot of funerals and like to see how quickly we can turn them into zombie-orgies. My current record is five minutes and twenty three seconds.

And ever since that I love funerals. Best of all the animals.


_{edit: may not be a true story.}
(Thu 11th May 2006, 12:16, More)

» I just don't get it

one more for good luck
whats up with slugs????
HOW DO THEY SURVIVE IN THEIR NATRUAL HABITAT???

DO THEY HAVE *ANY* METHOD OF SELFDEFENCE AGAINST PREDATORS???
why hasn't every last one of them been eaten?
as far as i can tell, they have no camoflauge, no protective shell/skeleton/skin. they dont fight back, they aren't poisonous and they CAN NOT run for SHIT.

WTF ever happened to kill or be killed. or flight or fight?

W...T...F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????
(Sat 2nd Apr 2005, 14:13, More)

» Worst Nicknames Ever

second
In year 9 of an all boys private school, we had this hardcore physical education teacher. He would make us run 5km as a warmup, then got us to do weights and play rugby.

Each week we would run the same track. Up a hill, out of school, in school again, down the hill, around an oval, back up the hill etc...

The hill made it harder.

Anyway, I originally wasn't very good at this. Read: CRAP. I would die halfway, only to have this teacher practically verbally whipping me (if he actually had a whip he would have used it), to keep me running.

So rather than people who just give up and walk, I'm out there every week running the whole thing. A couple of the times I collapsed at the end, I was often delirious. The teacher liked my efforts and kept an eye on me. He made it his mission to make me into a human machine.

He also taught me maths, and since I was his "project", he would give me nicknames.

Nicknames he gave me: "The Bertram", "The Bertie", "The machine", "The man, the moment...", "The tank", "The bug", "The Beetle" ( not that Bertie Beetle was a popular chocolate at the time), "The second coming", and god knows what else. Some people found this vaguely amusing, most thought it kinda cool.

So over the course of the year I'm still running every week, and whatever else. I gradually get better, the teacher yelling abuse and encouragement (didn't really remember which) all the way.

At the end of the year we had a cross country run. 10km or something. Out of some 120 students, possibly more, I came 14th or something. I beat people in the actual Cross Country club, I beat athletics proteges, I beat my friends, I FUCKING KICKED ARSE.

Just as I was finishing, the teacher walks up to me, smiles, and says "Good job Bertram", and then walks off into the sunset.

oh, and to stay on topic, those nicknames were slightly 

awkward and embarassing sometimes, hence why i didn't like them

(Thu 18th May 2006, 15:50, More)