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…you made it to the English Lecture of Postmodern Hair-Pulling Ptotalitarianism just in time, and you don’t pay much attention to where you plonk yourself down.

While waiting for Prof John Lennon Avec Ponytail to start his profound ruminations, a sudden banter reaches your panting ears.

Ag, you guys are such a cute couple…

My peripheral vision, being amazingly developed thanks to the Drama Department and a year of driving lessons, tells me I am once again in a cringeworthy situation.

Awesome New Girlfriend and her friend are chatting away like girls do, about wonderful ex of mine. And I am 5 centimetres away. So close, if they spat it would land on my head. So close, if I lean back with my head I could crunch their fingers underneath my powerful skull. So close, I begin to pray fervently that they do not start discussing the sex life of said Awesome New Girlfriend.

By the grace of John Lennon’s Ponytail, they did not. But by the time their banter had died down, my mind was already reeling with the awful possibilities… in a parallel universe, where I was doomed to hear all about the latest sexual antics of Ye Ex, I ran out of the room screaming, my hair falling out in clumps, and cats jumping on me as soon as I make it past Prof JL avec Ponytail.

In yet another parallel universe, I swivel around avec grandeur et self-assurance, and I query them on the latest in cunnilingus techniques, assuming Ye Ex has updated his external’s software, and knows how to operate such state-of-the-art machinations. Oh what’s that? He’s still on version 1.0? Oh dear, honey, the world is moving on you know, you should really consider upgrading…

But nein, I, the sweet modest embodiment of chastity and forgiveness, said no such bitchy things. I just sat there, and looked at Prof JL avec PT, and wondered if he likes…

cunning literature.

Obviously.

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