Every classroom has at least one asshole in it, but there are probably several. Some assholes are insidious– you never quite figure out that they’re an asshole, because they keep it to themselves during class, and then go home and set their family on fire and shit like that.

That would be an assholish thing to do, right?

That would be an assholish thing to do, right?

But some classroom assholes are easy to spot. These assholes seem to think it is their job to make it known to the world that they are an annoying asshole; as if they get paid every time someone fantasizes about ripping out their eyeballs and shoving them down their throat. While these people are horrible human beings, they can also be easily categorized. Here are two of my least favorite classroom assholes.

1. The Story Teller

It can be nice to hear from your classmates every once in awhile. Odds are your teacher speaks in a soul crushing monotone, or at least it sounds that way to your boredom-numbed mind.

"You call it Calculus, I call it nap time."

“You call it Calculus, I call it nap time.”

However, there is one classmate whose open mouth signals an oncoming nightmare. This classmate is the Storyteller, and for every sentence your teacher gets out, the Storyteller has a long, ass, boring story that they just HAVE to share with everyone.

The Storyteller at work:

Teacher: In conclusion, 2+2=4.

Storyteller: That’s just like this one time my family and I were going on a road trip to Ohio; we were gonna go to Washington but then we found out how bad the weather was gonna be that week, so we settled on Ohio, instead. It was me, my mom, my dad, and my brother. My other brother was going to come but he died of cancer the week before. Lung cancer. He was in the hospital for like a year before he finally passed on. But anyway, we were going to Ohio to spread his ashes. Which I thought was kind of gross because why do people even do that? Just spread ashes everywhere? It doesn’t make any sense to me but it said in his will that he wanted us to do that. I think I read about that sort of thing in a book one time. Like why people spread their ashes. But I don’t remember what else the book was about or what it said about it. So we went to Ohio and my mom and dad sat in the front, and my brother and I sat in the back, just like the equation!

Everyone else in the classroom: SHUT THE FUCK UP

2. The “What If”-er

The What-If-er is the Storyteller’s equally assholish cousin. Instead of telling stupid stories no one wants to hear, the What If-er asks the most asinine questions that have no bearing on anybody’s life ever, dooming the teacher to blankly stare at them and try their best not to curse them out for asking such a stupid fucking question. The What If-er’s motto is, “There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” except whoever first said that wasn’t thinking of the What If-er’s. Because they are assholes.

The What If-er at work:

Teacher: In conclusion, 2+2=4.

What If-er: But what if 2 really equaled 6 all this time and nobody knew because a few ancient texts got translated wrong?

"I'm not paid enough to put up with your bullshit."

“I’m not paid enough to put up with your bullshit.”

Keep an eye out for these assholes in one of your next classes!

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