Austin

My colleague Austin is a medium tall baby faced guy. We’ve known each other since our junior year of high school. We met in a situation of apathetic depravity, under the regime of Mr.- err, I’ll call him Fidel for the sake of my safety. Fidel was an older dictator, who walked with a slight hunch, which emphasized his vast age, his head was slightly bald, with a gray ring of hair still desperately clinging on for the ride. Like all good dictators Mr. Fidel controlled us. We didn’t pee without asking, we didn’t breathe without asking, we didn’t speak without asking. So mostly we silently asphyxiated. Within ten minutes of class you could hear the clunk of heads on desks as one by one we dropped like flies.

Miraculously we survived to live another day. Now we sit together under the nurturing passion of Professor X. This time we are better prepared. Now we are combating the dictatorial vices of our “teachers” by writing about it. Yes, you heard me right, writing about it. Gone are the days of undocumented brutality at the hands of education, today we strike back!