By Pup Shaggy
I’d start by reciting the dream I had that night, but I can’t remember a damn second of it. All I know is that it must have been a good one because the wood I woke up with that morning was like a boats mast. I grinned, scratched my head, fondled my balls, and then turned my attention to my bed-pal.
I live in a student house, although I wouldn’t consider myself the regular ‘student’. Mostly I think it’s an age thing; you see while the average student is twenty something years old, I’m in my thirties, which then begs the question of why I’m staying in student accommodation. Long story short, I’m here working through a master’s degree my boss at work decided I should get; something about ‘increasing the prestige of the company’. I suppose a part of it is the mentality of it all as well; our differences in attitude. You see, while I tend to focus on more class work, their attitude is less aimed at their studies and more for partying and getting into trouble, as college students do. I’m not about to judge; I was that age once.
