I loved it (and I do love me some creative profanity), and I must have watched it about eight times. There is a delicious irony in seeing snowflakes getting balled out by another snowflake for flaking out on activities that are already flakey. There is also an odd sense that the sorority prez seemed to think she was running the most uptight brothel in history for the benefit of a herd of sigma gnus (whatever they are).
But I can't shake an ominous feeling that it could have just as easily been me losing my shit with my own charges in almost the same way. Let's see here, a couple of minor edits...
I do not give a flying fuck, andCan't say I haven't been tempted on occasion.
Sigma NuTuk U does not give a flying fuck, about how much you fucking love to talk to your sisterstext with your bros. You have 361 days165 hours out of the fucking yearweek to talk to sisterstext your bros, and this weekclass is NOT, I fucking repeat NOT ONE OF THEM. This weekclass is about fostering relationships in the greek community, learning to look after hamsters without fucking killing them and that's not fucking possible if you're going to standsit around and talk to each otherstare at your smartphones and not our matchuppay attention to the class. DOUBLE FUCKING NEWSFLASH: Sigma NuHamster hatcheries are NOT going to want to hang out with ushire you if weyour hamster skilz FUCKING SUCK, which by the way in case you 're an idiotdidn't pick up your midterm and need it spelled out for you, weyour hamster husbandry skillz FUCKING SUCK SO FAR.
It's an uncomfortable feeling - I do not (I fucking repeat NOT) want to be this person - but I recognize something in the rant. It's why we come here to the Miz. There's that vicarious thrill at seeing someone cross that line to "I'm mad as Hell and... you can take this job and... FUUUUUUUUCK!"
There but for the Grace of God go I.