I was talking to mam today and apparently, on the mean scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being mother theresa and 10 being hitler, I'm ranked as a 9. WTF? It's not like I go around committing genocide... Admittedly, I do tend to make fun of people, but I agree with the cliche "What goes around comes around..." or rather, the version that goes "What went around comes around so watch your back biatch!" Basically, I figure people are mocking me or at least thinking mean thoughts so my role is that of the "comes around" revenge type. Plus, when you see people you can make fun of on a daily basis, class proves to be a lot more entertaining. Here are some examples...

Old Man Eng (old-man-'enj)

This "old man" is in all my second year mechanical engineering classes. He's lookin about 50 and at 2 months into school, has thus far managed to make...you got it, zero friends. He sits by himself in the corner of the classroom with all adjacent seats left empty by our fearful classmates... He's even a hardcore in his faded red UBC Engineering jacket and his grimy little red baseball cap. Such an easy target. Today during one of my lectures the professor was talking about some event and asked if anyone remembered it. No one did so he goes "I don't expect you to because it happened before you were born... Hell, it happened before I was born." Dave then turns to me and says "I bet Old Man Eng was around when it happened" and receives my hearty giggle of agreement. So it's not like I'm the only one who finds an elderly student the source of much amusement.

Dish Rag (anno-ying-'bast-ard)

Well, he hasn't been that bad as of late, but he was pretty damn annoying a couple weeks back. The first time I met him was when I found out he was one of four people in my lab group. A strange odour permeated the air surrounding his pimply persona... I sniffed the stench cautiously, a distant memory of nastiness triggered. What's that? my brain cried out. Wait...wait...an image of a sink flashes in my brain. There's a limp pile sitting at the side...and it's been fermenting for weeks...it's a...it's a...DISH RAG! Mmm delicious, nothing beats the smell of a bacteria infested dirty dish rag that's been sitting out to rot for a week or so. He doesn't always smell like that though. On good days it's just his foul breath. Yeah, so this guy thinks he's damn Poisson and acts as if he's supa smarter than the rest of us even though he doesn't always know what he's doing. He's pretty bossy and condescending sometimes (eg once I asked him how to spell his first name and he dictated the letters to me like I was in kindergarten ie K........R........Y.......Z........but fuckit man, not everyone has a breeze spelling a first name with half a dozen x's, z's, and whatever the hell other scrabble treasure chips he's got in there). And sometimes he slips into his old quebecois ways and speaks french instead of english...I can still understand him but please, just quit it. The next time he goes "Step deux" I swear I'm gonna throw a fresh batch of scalding hot poutine in his face.

Chug-a-lug (mmm-eye-luv-meye-'bran)

This guy's really fun to watch. He's a living, breathing, walking garburator. He eats non-stop from the infinite number of tupperware containers he pulls from his magical canvas bag. Okay, and you know how some people carry a water bottle to class? This guy brings in a 4 litre plastic jug! Sometimes you can see him sitting at the front of the class, licking his parched lips. He'll eye his jug of liquid heaven and then like a leopard he pounces on the poor little container, ripping the cap off and chugging it's vital life source. He's also got jam jars full of fruit juice and a one litre plastic container filled with milk. Now, I'm not in the dairy business, but shouldn't milk be bad by 530pm if it's been out all day (I know because I've got classes with him from 830am to 530pm)? So near the end of the afternoon chug-a-lug whips out his milk, unscrews the cap and swishes the sour milk around so he can better savour it's bitter aroma. Then he adds these little brown chunky things from a separate recycled cottage cheese container. Boy shakes it a few times to fully incorporate his "rabbit food", then you can see him tilt the bottle back and down a few gulps in between his aggressive chewing actions.

Hmmm...I guess those are the main targets of my mean-ness. There are others who play a more minor role, but I think you all get the point: I'm a cold-hearted ruthlessly mean snake.

If you think I'm mean, check out Adolf Magcalas.