Hey, I’m Steven. I sit in the front row of lecture halls and my hand can go up very high and tall. Really tall. Want to see how tall? Just watch. Oh – there it goes! It’s shooting up. Bet you can’t even read the slides anymore, huh? Now would you look at that, the professor is making eye contact with me. And you know I’m returning it. I’m returning that eye contact so hard. Mmm don’t stop. Oh god, he’s calling on me. Oh yes. Yes. YES. It’s happening. This moment, right here, right now, is the only reason I do the readings, and it feels… so right.
Oh hey there! It’s me Steven, from lecture. You know, the one who does the readings? Well God hates you and I’m in your conference too. I’m going to spend the next half hour simultaneously jerking off the TA and myself, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’ll also be talking about the readings in such a way that somehow makes the rest of the conference feel bad for not having done them, even though the only reason I had the time to do them was because I have no other commitments or people who care about me!
Here’s the thing. I know you all hate me. But I love me. And the only way I can achieve orgasm anymore is by doing the readings and announcing them to the entire class whenever the opportunity aries. So roll up your regular-sized hats, sweethearts, because you’re about to learn a whole lot about Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s classic text, The Social Contract.