You're a lucky bunch of sprogs, huh? For one, you have a pretty nice place here, one I will probably end up defacing at some point during the year. Or, at the very least, day. Secondly you've been blessed with a teacher such as I.
The name's Brian, you can call me that if I like you. If I don't, you can call me whatever the fuck you like; I won't be listening to you anyway. I specialise in psychology, which means if any of you had brains I'd be dissecting the fuck out of them, but alas, I'll save that until you grow into big people. For now you'll probably just be my guinea pigs instead.
I'm 26, I'm from So Cal, and I spent the last six years in London. I don't have an accent, but I do have a photograph of me throwing up on the London Eye, which is something far more valuable to take away. And leave. I have a degree I'm willing to stick up your ass if you dare to question me, though secretly I'll love you for it.
You'll be coming to my classes. You will. They're an elective, but if you don't sign up I'll personally stalk you down armed with a Biro and a clipboard. You don't want that to happen to you, do you? Not in front of your friends. Even though you're welcome to tell them you're screwing me afterwards, if it soothes your damaged ego. But still, the wounds will be there, so get your ass to my fucking classroom. You'll learn amazing things. You'll figure out how to woo girls. I'll teach you how to tell when your Dad is really drunk and why your heard hurts when you try to think about mirrors reflecting their selves.
We'll have neuroscience mixed with psychotherapy. We may dabble in criminology and art and music therapy. You'll know how a mad man's head works, if you don't already, and you might just see how to execute the perfect murder. I'm thinking experiments involving eggs, tables and hairspray, but I'll have to get back to you with that.
So, you're going to be in my next class, I know you are. Just bring a change of clothes and wet wipes. And come to my office any time between 12pm and 5pm to sign up and grab your new textbooks. I'll post class times when I get a rough idea of the numbers.
- Brian.
Current Mood: 
apathetic
Current Music: Make It Wit Chu - QOTSA. It makes me wanna rub against things. Hm.