Picking classes for a semester can be real tough. Sometimes it gets so confusing that you get frustrated and you can’t think or see straight. And sometimes you just get so upset with the whole process that you start smashing all of your possessions and then set fire to your bed and stand there, watching it burn, laughing.
Put down the matches, friend. I think I have a way to clear up what can be a difficult time in a student’s life. It’s a little analogy I use whenever I’m explaining class registration to my pre-college friends. I sit them down on their naptime mats, give them juice and say: “Hey guys… let’s pretend for a minute that you’re like an index finger. A small, hairy little index finger with facial features and limbs. Now, being an index finger, it’s your job to venture into the classes of UVM and decide which ones are right for you. UVM is just one gigantic nose and the classes, well, they’re just a bunch of boogers. You have to ‘pick-a-good-one’ if you’re going to be ‘digging-for-gold.’ “Once you’re in the class, you can’t just flick it away or wipe it off under your seat. No, young buddies, you’re stuck with it. But be careful! Don’t overload yourself! Because when you pick too many classes, you will start to bleed…From…Your nose.” It’s at this point that I furrow my brow and begin to review what I’ve said, unsure of what I’m getting at. My friends all laugh at me and point. Some have fallen asleep on their mats. They are the worst friends a man could ask for.
Professors think the analogy is “disturbing” and they ask, “Can you please not refer to our classes as mucus from the nasal passage?” For one, professors, I’m trying to help your student body. And for two, they’re called boogies. I thought a college professor would have learned that by now in their ‘big city’ classrooms.
Analogies aside, it’s easy if you know which classes are the best with a little guidance. So I did some research for you, the reader, my best friend. My only real friend. Here is a list of the best classes here at UVM and ones I strongly suggest you sign up for:
How to Make New Cigarettes Out Of Used Ones You Found on the Ground 102: This class, taught by Squinty-Eyed Frank, is a look at how hoboes are able to get some smokes before hopping the J train out of town. You will be required to supply fingerless gloves, not bathe for several weeks before the semester begins and to feed Mr. Squinty clam chowder and brownies from your mothers. Also, Mr. S. is going to need a ride to class every day and he’s also going to need to bunk up with someone in the class, preferably someone with a nice toilet and lots of “loot.”
Sandwich Making 213: This class will teach students the art of perfect sandwich-making as taught by master homemaker Wendy Finklestein. You’ll learn how to make tuna, roast beef, turkey and ham, but never egg salad because it gives Mr. Finklestein the runs. After the sandwiches are made, you’ll help wash windows and vacuum and, if able, breastfeed young Todd.
Community Service 316: The best way to describe this class is with the words of the instructor, Hack “The Gunner” Bleedstrom, himself. Said Hack, “We’re gonna pick up some garbage and whatnot… ‘Cause the pigs told me it was my only way out of their bogus setup… So I’m gonna need about four kids, a hacksaw, some TNT and a couple of lady escorts. Hey, man… Those are nice shoes…” The prerequisite is The Ancient Art of Cutting Guys In the Joint 129.
Okay, so maybe these aren’t “traditional” classes at UVM and maybe these aren’t actual professors, but people I “met on the street.” What’s your point? Maybe, just maybe, it’s because of a certain “restraining order” put on me by UVM for “setting my mattress on fire.” Did you ever think of that? Huh?
I give up. Good luck with your classes or whatever. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun in “academic studies.” But for anyone who’s interested in a REAL challenge, come on down to the alleyway on 10th Street where Professor Squinty and I will be learning how to eat shoelaces to prevent ‘the shakes.’
Pick a good one!
