Class boredom

I’m sitting in EMT class wondering why I came. After working my a$$ off all day, I give up my Wednesday evening to make the world a slightly better (safer?) world.

And what do I get? The substitute instructor from hell. This guy tells inane and endless, off-point stories all night. How ’bout the one where his fat mama tackled him from behind (“she might be big, but she’s fast”).

Also, he acts exactly like the school counselor on South Park. “A head injury. That’s bad. OK?” He must has said “OK” a couple of hundreds time tonight. I’m going to keep an exact count on Monday night. I’ll let you know the results.




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