My waistline has been the subject of humor for a long time. I don’t mind it at all, really. Some lady friends of mine have even taken the pleasure of a nap on my round belly or give it a nice happy rub.

One thing that peeves me, though, is when my lecturers start to take advantage of the subject. Allow me to share with you two stories that have gloriously victimized my happy, prosperous abdomen…

Pipe Hundred Nano-checkonds.

When I was still studying Engineering, I took a course on Microprocessors. One of the chapters was about Timing and I was having some difficulty with it, so I went to see the lecturer who taught us that chapter. He was a merry Bangladeshi who frequently sounds like he just sniffed some coke before he starts talking, and he goes by the name of Mr. Shabiul.

After showing him my problems, he starts to explain…

“Wokay. Dhink, clock. Wokay? Clock? Clock? Clock?” he asked.

“Okay.” I replied.

“Clock has twoo shtates. Vaaahhn (one),…and Jiro (zero). Wokay? So, it goes, vahn, jiro, vhan, jiro, vhan, jiro, vhan, jiro? Wokay?”

“Okay.”

“At vahn, it shends ahdress. At jiro, it shends deyta.”

“Okay.”

“SoOoOo…ahdress, deyta, ahdress, deyta, ahdress, deyta, wokay?”

“Okay.”

“Dhyming. Dhymingg…ish abowt how long de clock whoapen de ports to shend deyta.”

“Okay.”

“Eckjample. Let’s shay, I am data, okay? Data, data, data. I take abowt tchree hundred nano-checkonds to pass throoo.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s shay, my ohpis door is dhymed. My door whoapens for, maybe pour hundred nano-checkonds. I phit throoo door, now I yam shitting here yin my chair.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, you. Plump boy. Kenot phit throo door, maybe you take pipe hundered nano-checkonds. So, I whoapen door, bit bigger. Maybe cheben hundred nano-checkonds.”

“Oh-kayyyy….”

“Pipe hundred nano-checkonds, pass throoo cheben hundred nano-checkonds, now you’re in my ohpis…”

With that he finished his explanation with a huge proud smile, and left me filled with WTF-ness for the rest of the day.

He probably still thinks that he has the most awesome sense of humor.

*****

Not Enough Fat

In my drawing class today, the lecturers (yes, there were more than one teaching in that class) were having fun from making my life hell by complicating the subject that we were supposed to draw today. Fortunately, I was able to finish my drawing, with very few mistakes and practically left them with nothing to pester about it.

The head lecturer decided to take a quick vengeful stab at me, and made an announcement toward the end of the lesson. It had something to do about the cold Set and Background Studio where the class was held.

“Okay everyone, next week, make sure you bring your sweaters or jackets.” he said.

“What for?” I asked. Little did I know that I fell right into his trap. He grinned, and turned to me before saying,

“That announcement only applies to people who don’t have enough fat to stay warm.” said Mr. 40-inch Waistline.

He sneered at me with a smug look of victory in his eyes. Of course, there were other big guys in the room who shared my anguish and quite frankly, I think it won’t be long before the whip strikes back at him.

Brouahahaha!