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And it's like... flesh... EVERYWHERE. Boys wearing flares and carrying bass guitars over their shoulders, girls wearing as little as possible despite the cold weather and making eyes at the boys carrying bass guitars.
Pierced belly buttons everywhere you look. Pierced nipples if you look hard enough. Green hair, nose jewellery, silver-decked goths with black fingernails and the deepest hazel eyes you can imagine, blondes that must have spray-painted their jeans on that morning wandering by asking for directions to their next class, off the shoulder numbers that state quite clearly "Hey, I'm wearing a black lacy bra do you like it? Stop me and tell me if you do."
College rocks. And that's just the tutors. You should see the students :) My biggest problem at the moment is concentrating on asexual reproduction in aphids in Biology classes, and if you had the vision sitting opposite you that I do during those classes you'd have trouble concentrating too. She's 21. Single. Blonde, about size 8, the sort of woman who turns heads so fast that casualty departments get inundated with whiplash casualties. She's doing health and nutrition and having trouble with the the maths components when it comes to exponentials and describing the size of white blood cells compared to the capabilities of human vision. I said I've got a book on it at home. She's popping over at the weekend to have a browse.
If I survive next week I'll give you an update on the latest changes in college fashions. I'm not sure I will survive because at the moment I feel like a bee that's just survived a narrow miss with a 10-gallon pot of honey. I can't WAIT to report on the Summer fashions.
*Surfs over to e-bay to search for "bass guitars"*
And it's like... flesh... EVERYWHERE. Boys wearing flares and carrying bass guitars over their shoulders, girls wearing as little as possible despite the cold weather and making eyes at the boys carrying bass guitars.
Pierced belly buttons everywhere you look. Pierced nipples if you look hard enough. Green hair, nose jewellery, silver-decked goths with black fingernails and the deepest hazel eyes you can imagine, blondes that must have spray-painted their jeans on that morning wandering by asking for directions to their next class, off the shoulder numbers that state quite clearly "Hey, I'm wearing a black lacy bra do you like it? Stop me and tell me if you do."
College rocks. And that's just the tutors. You should see the students :) My biggest problem at the moment is concentrating on asexual reproduction in aphids in Biology classes, and if you had the vision sitting opposite you that I do during those classes you'd have trouble concentrating too. She's 21. Single. Blonde, about size 8, the sort of woman who turns heads so fast that casualty departments get inundated with whiplash casualties. She's doing health and nutrition and having trouble with the the maths components when it comes to exponentials and describing the size of white blood cells compared to the capabilities of human vision. I said I've got a book on it at home. She's popping over at the weekend to have a browse.
If I survive next week I'll give you an update on the latest changes in college fashions. I'm not sure I will survive because at the moment I feel like a bee that's just survived a narrow miss with a 10-gallon pot of honey. I can't WAIT to report on the Summer fashions.
*Surfs over to e-bay to search for "bass guitars"*
I hate college boys.
*glares*
> FantasyMeister, didn't you claim to be 37 years old or something?
That would have been a lie.
I'm 36 :)
Nice.