It’s always about that guy who comes late because his brother needed lunch or his aunt threatened suicide.

And those couples who can’t keep their hands to themselves.

Moreover that kid who finished his shisha and JD a tad late last night.

Also that girl who finally asks you to repeat your speech after taking off her iPod earphones.

Plus that guy who had to get some Coke and crisp for (pre/post) lunch. Pass that M&Ms if you would please.

Not to mention that girl who hides her psychological disorder by blaming family problems, hyperventilating like an OD-ed Chihuahua, pulling off people’s tops just to see their bra colors, and biting one of their arms and expects them to say har-har-it’s-A-okay-you’re-so-cute, on top of being one of those ever productive team members who frantically rush in and out of the room to answer phone calls and messages of extreme importance, while saying Hi to concerned passerby-s who came to discuss lunch/dinner plans without knocking on the door (sometimes).

So much so that it’s almost pitiful to look at the end of the world your overachieving friend-cum-director is emo-ing at.

At this rate, it doesn’t seem to matter that all of you may die in less than a week. Posters have been stuck up the walls, invitations have been sent, and the media has been informed. It’s supposed to be a play to commemorate your awesomest lecturer’s 50th year of teaching on your cuntry’s 50th year of independence, for crying out loud! It even falls on the 4th of July!

Oh, wait. You’re not even getting a grade out of this. Thank fucking goodness.

So long, suckers.