Observations at Sierra College

Sierra College, in its usual glory, provides a bounty of people watching. From the flamboyant to the downright bizarre, there’s always something to… laugh at. For cereal, just go spend 30 minutes in the cafeteria: so much to see. I imagine that, if aliens were real, human zoos would look just like the Sierra College cafeteria, with the added bonus behind tinted one-way windows of grotesque aliens cooing and whistling at our glaringly dumb human nature. And thusly, the freak show is revealed…

A particularly arrogant young woman holds herself highly. Her hair is an unnatural shade of red and short and looks like it’s possibly molecularly bonded by hairspray, but that’s okay, it completes the package… I guess. Awful mini-skirt and a button up blouse to complete her wardrobe. But she should be aware: plaid on plaid either makes you look fashionably retarded, or like such a douche bag hipster that you may implode from your own narcissism.

Behind her lurks a man following a woman. They are laughing. It’s all golden in my eyes, except for the fact that the masculine one is carrying a satchel. Men should never carry satchels. Indiana Jones was the only male figure capable of pulling that off. There is, nor will there ever be again, any man that possesses that much security and image of manliness to successfully carry a satchel. I don’t care about convenience… just don’t do it.

So I get to thinking as my eyes drift to the next ocular treat: hair, there’s something about it this semester. No, it’s not the painfully obvious unnatural platinum blondes. And it dawned on me… LMFAO single handedly¬† made the homeless fro a cool thing. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE.

A pan to the back of the room yields that nerds flock and hide in corners. Here they can be seen in their sweaty garb and exotic – to be polite – hats. They speak freely and loudly and tend to enjoy the Pokemanz. They also know no shame, which can be good or bad… in this case: bad.

People move. People set up new observations. Sun dresses make you look like the loosest whore on campus. Beanies are not necessary when it’s 90 degrees. The next Ice Age will not catch you by surprise. It’s August. High water pants… (death shudder). Asians always look terrified. If I can see your frontal thigh fat jiggling when you walk: your pants are too tight. And picture this: off center fo-hawk.

Let’s walk outside.

To the girl in super short shorts and nasty pink tank walking in the center of a very busy 6 lane (two way) road and completely oblivious to the crosswalk, blatantly ignoring the fact that, though legally frowned upon, physics does not give a crap if you make a decent speed bump so you prance around with head phones on: fuck you. Seriously? The crosswalk, located maybe 50 feet away from her, was THAT inconvenient? Alright. I’ll let that slide. But the head phones? Really? Dear Natural Selection: human kind is due for a gene cut.

So In my usual self-superior nature, I am highly observant of those around me. For the most part, I think very little of them. I’m sorry. I just hate people. They’re nasty, but amusing… at least. Anyways. I overheard this line that definitely made me hate the plot of the human race a little more: “For some reason I have to work tomorrow.” Miss, let me settle your confusion. The reason you have to work might be because, oh, I don’t know… you have a job. I know. It’s a crazy theory. Oh Sierra College… you dumb bitch.


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