This is the archive of tumbledry happenings that occurred on 7 March, 2005.

This university is not known for huge lectures (though at other schools, 200+ lectures are not as bad as one would think), but there are indeed enough people in the larger general lecture classes to be annoying. Now, the occasional polyphonic power pop cell phone ring does not bother me, nor does the eternally conjested man somewhere behind me to my right, or even the hoodie-wearing upper level folk who show up for the comfortable seats and dim lighting that their dorm rooms apparently do not afford. Sometimes, though, there is One. The single person who believes it is their God-given right to disrupt the class in a stunningly stupid way.

They think they own the professor.

Tell me, oh master of the obvious question, what about this lecture has lead you to believe that you are in office hours for a one-on-one dialogue with the person at the front of the room? And please, if you are able, elucidate why must you talk to the professor from four rows back like the two of you are sitting over a cup of coffee, discussing the day’s lesson plan as if it were a continuing dialogue pandering to your concerns, troubles, and understanding. Have you ever raised your hand? Do you understand what that gesture means? I politely but firmly request you reconsider your previous habits in lecture and shut the crap up.

Sheesh.

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The Best Flash Game Ever - Bounce a giraffe up and down until you land on the moon.

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