Happy Canada Day, all.
I had a little fun with my naturally curly hair (YES, IT'S NATURAL, DAMMIT!) [sorry: twice a week an old lady asks me where I got my perm] today at work, stuffing pens in there.
The receptionists thought this was high comedy.
I had about ten stuffed up there, stuck between locks. I'd almost forgotten my hair could do that.
Ten, however, was nowhere near my record: back in high school, when I let my hair grow out for about ten months (twelfth grade yearbook photo, minus personal info):
I once went into a Chemistry 11 final with an entire pencil case stuffed with pens and pencils. All through the final, I surreptitiously slid pens and pencils into my natty mass of hair: it was long enough then, that they were completely hidden inside my mop. Then, when I finished my final, I stood to hand in my exam, and when I handed it in, I held my head back, and then threw it forward in a (fake) sneeze.About fifty pens and pencils flew all across the floor at the front of the classroom. Got a decent laugh. . . though it isn't my ONLY final exam hijinx story by a longshot. (If by a longshot you mean two.)
If you want to know the other two, you'll have to ask in the comments.
Until then:
a couple more pictures:
Didn't know pets were recyclable.
(eating dog joke goes here)
More from Jongho(from the previous post)'s ad agency:
2 comments:
Hi Rob!
I love the pictures of your hair! Also the exam story, I don't think I've heard it before. What were the other two?
Once, I made Dr. Pell, TWU's toughest prof (nickname "Pell from Hell" - and she was proud of that), laugh so hard she had to leave the examination room.
She left the room for something, and when she came back, she said, "Did anything happen while I was gone?"
Bryan, the other English Department TA, and a goofball, said, "Rob faked a heart attack to get out of writing the exam"
Dr. Pell said, "Is that true, Rob?"
I deadpanned, "Yeah. But I flinched when Bryan tried to give me mouth-to-mouth."
The other time was during my final exam for Psalms and Wisdom Literature: the exam had a bunch of multiple choice, and then four essay questions, where we had to write on three of five given topics for short essays, and then on one of three given topics for a long essay (a good third of the exam grade).
As the exam's time period wound down, the Prof, Dr. Broyles, said, "You have five more minutes to finish your long essays."
I rustled my exam papers and then exclaimed, "SHOOT! There's a long essay, too?"
Dr. Broyles, a curly-haired ex-hippie, looked at me with a stricken face that said, more clearly than I can convey, "Rob, you're screwed." (except replace screwed with the word that sounds like plucked. Seriously, that word, and it could only have been that word, was written on the face of my religious studies) prof.
Then I smiled and said, "Just kidding," and he huffed laughter, but I had him flat-footed for that priceless, five-second "dead-man-walking" face.
I was very pleased with myself.
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