Mia: Shaken Not Stirred
Brand Spankin'Twenty Years Later The Taste Is Still Bitter
Ride of The Valkyries
I Was Murdered
I’ve Had Some of The Best times I’ll Never Remembe...
Welcome To My World Old Man
He Sure Has Great Taste In Women!
Keep Your Panties On!
God Bless Her Little Antagonistic Soul
You want to watch homeless people strip Mia?
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Friday, May 09, 2008The Wire
We’re down to the wire which just happens to be stretched taut over a dark abysmal pit. …BOING…the sound of the wire being stretched a little too thin in danger of being snapped. Three students have been dropped from the program. Their wires gave way under the pressure.By the end of the semester a few more students will be gone unable to maintain their balance on the wire.
The young woman took her place behind the podium quickly launching into her presentation. As she stood in front of the class I realized I didn’t know her name even though we had several classes together. Her topic was “Schizophrenia and MRI’s”, and I for one was actually looking forward to it. Yeah I’m a nerd like that. After several minutes the professor interrupted to ask if she was going to present her entire research paper or just a synopsis of it.
BOING…the wire she’d been balancing herself on snapped. She exhaled deeply and glared at the professor, “You know professor it is hard enough being up here without your interruptions. I just want to get through this!” The professor was shocked into apologizing “what everrrrr” she replied. She resumed her presentation visibly upset and slammed the computer’s mouse on the podium. With each slide she presented she grew more upset and slammed it harder, with each slide she presented it became apparent that the mouse would be lucky to survive the lecture.
The eyes of the entire class were riveted on her, we sat in stunned silence.
She bit out her words and choked on a few. Her voice wavered through out her lecture. Her distress fanned out over the class room making us all feel uncomfortable. Those of us sitting in the front could see her tightened knuckles drained of color as she gripped the podium…she looked as if she were going to splinter the wooden podium into dust. My jaw dropped with the realization that either she was having a panic attack or was suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder and the voices in her head had just called a meeting to order. Her eyes narrowed and she scanned the front row pinning us with this hard ass stare lobbing visual hand grenades at us pin out, if looks could kill we would’ve been goners.
so help me god if this bitch’s head starts spinning I’m slapping her upside her head with my lap top until she starts projectile vomiting
I was unable to focus on the actual lecture itself, it had become background scenery to her body language and the distress in her voice. She was struggling to hang on to the wire dangling over the pit and was losing her grip, sliding closer to whatever horror was at the bottom of that pit. I looked over my shoulder for my professor. Save her! Get her ass off of there, do something! For the love of god man pretend to trip over the power cord and unplug the computer…anything… just do something! The professor did nothing. I think he was too stunned by what he was witnessing to speak. It was like watching a faltering trapeze artist on a frayed wire, everyone knew it was going to end badly but no one seemed able to stop it or look away from it.
Finally it was over, her lecture ended. She looked out over the class like a trapped animal.My heart broke for her. A smattering of applause broke the silence. I didn't applaud the lecture honestly I couldn't recall one iota of it. I applauded the courage she had shown in remaining at the podium hanging on to her wire. She made her way to an empty seat on the opposite side of the room. As soon as she sat down her head and shoulders dropped and the room was filled with the sounds of her anguished crying. A few of the females sitting nearby rushed to comfort her.
The professor called another student up to the podium. The wire had been re-strung, it was someone else’s turn to walk across it.
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