Travolta’s Cancer

Have you ever felt really awkward asking your professor a question about
sexuality?

No, neither Have I. What kind of sick bastard would lay that onto an
unsuspecting individual?

Anyway, I was asking my Russian Transitions Professor (She is Russian and She
Teaches Transition from Socialism, it’s Sadly Ironic) and when I asked her for a
handout from the previous class, she responded with,

“And why werent you in class on Monday?”

I responded with a quick lie,

“I was sick, had to take the day off.”

Which, in fact, was totally unnecessary – I had actually missed class to
perform a job interview over the phone. But instinct is instinct, and I feigned
Illness.

At the moment I said this, I simultaneously removed my Hat to show her the
proper courtesy. Unfortunately, I neglected to remember I had recently shaved my
Head. And my Beard.

And that I was currently inhabiting a frame somewhere between 127 and 132
Standard Pounds *

You had to be there, but everything came together to nuance the fact that I
was undergoing Chemotherapy.

Yes, I have Cancer. Imaginary Cancer. The Deadliest Kind. **

End Result –

Instead of Receiving the Handout – I received her Personal Copy of the
Textbook it was drawn from, plus, the option to do the assignment based upon it,
“If I was feeling up to it.”

I’ve Seen Wit. Cancer is Horrible. But I’ll be damned if I tell that
poor woman her pity or empathy was misplaced.

To Illustrate – Here is a Random Picture of Me where I believe*** that I look
like a cross between John Travolta and Viggo Mortensen,

Magua

—-

* Thank You “Eat Less, Fatty” by Paul Church.

** Not Deadly

***Wish Were True, but not because I want to be that Good Looking, rather, I
wish to be Rich out of My Ass. And Possibly the King of Middle Earth – or really
good at dancing.

—-

Travolta did his Best work with that
Haircut.

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