Freaky Prof!

So I already told you about one of my teachers, right? Then let me introduce you the rest of the gang! LOL!

The next one is a lady who teaches Business Communication. She is fluent in English but despises the country that speaks it. She would go on and on about how the Americans are screwing over third world countries like ours. She compares the Americans to the British people and how much better British people are. She said British people are not racist (unlike Americans). Indians are actually doing really well there. She once said UK was the better colonizer. When they left Hong Kong, they left it fully developed with a thriving economy. As for the Americans, when they left the Philippines they left us with nothing but deserted bases and a chaotic government. She said Americans think they are so superior that they treat all of their colonies like slaves, and not as equals. She said, Americans will never change, they have such an extensive history of treating others like slaves, one day America will lose their power and no one will feel sorry for them. (The statements/opinions above are not my own.)

My next professor is the scariest most disturbing looking woman I’ve ever seen! LOL! Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but my classmates would no doubt agree. She teaches Human Resources Management, poorly I might add. All I can do to stay awake from her subject is play SuDoku on my phone. She teaches the lesson really really slowly. She reads from the book and tries to explain in excruciating detail each topic per chapter. She loves wearing sleeveless blouses and skirts (no stockings. Ugh, just telling it to you sends shivers up and down my spine). When she writes on the board; the flab on her arms wiggles. Her face is sunken and lifeless and she makes it worse by wearing heavy amounts of cosmetic products. Her skin is like a road map and usually wears her hair in an unkempt bun. She always looks bedraggled and honestly (without any form of embellishment) smells like long forgotten make up and potpourri (you know that bundle of old smelling fragrant flowers that are dried?). I AM NOT KIDDING! This is the best description I could ever think of, and I was being kind. I once over heard a conversation my classmates were having. They were talking about our teacher’s age (Uh-oh, a dangerous topic. LOL!). One said 75, the other 88…

I would have guessed 105! LOL!

to be continued…