Spiritual Advisor Paul, Holly and Calculus, Boob thing
by: Philip Hassey

        Sometime during the semester I realized that I needed a god reason to stay away from women, because they were giving me baggage. That's when I knew that Paul was my spiritual advisor. Anything I didn't want to do, I was then able to blame on spiritual advisor Paul's commands.
        "Spiritual advisor Paul said I can't go within ten feet of girls," I'd say.
        "Spiritual advisor Paul says I shouldn't talk with strange girls," I'd say.
        "Spiritual advisor Paul knows that it isn't good for me to be around you much," I'd say.
        Spiritual advisor Paul never actually said any of those things to me, until after I started encouraging him to. Then he felt that he should announce all my spiritual problems at me.
        Mostly I think that the incident with Jen on Highlander is was what started giving me baggage. I knew that any given girl who gave so much as thirty seconds worth of attention to me I'd fall in love with. Since that wasn't a very health thing for me to be doing, I figured keeping a safe distance from them would help.

        "Hey Phil," said Holly, "I need help in Calculus, can you help me sometime?"
        "Well," I slowly said, getting a bit nervous about the whole situation, "Spiritual advisor Paul says I'm not aloud to spend time with the womenfolk. He says it could be dangerous."
        "That's a load of crap," said Holly, "I need help, and all you can do is make up lame excuses!"
        "But," I tried to object, "I guess I can help, if you really need it. And there are lots of people around."
        "We'll do it right here, in the middle of the campus center, a place where I'm likely not going to take advantage of you, Phil."
        "Okay," I replied. Nervously again. What if she sacked me? Probably wouldn't, but I should be careful.

        "Okay," said Holly, "How do I do this?"
        "Umn," I said, I'm very good at explaining things, "Well, imagine you have a toilet."
        "Okay?" said Holly. I drew the toilet on a piece of paper to try to make things simpler.
        "And, when you flush the toilet it goes down into this sewer," I mumbled, "and the sewer is shaped like the equation x^2." I drew the sewer.
        "Uh huh?" said Holly.
        "Phil," said Holly, "I don't get it, since when does anyone have a sewer shaped like x^2?"
        "Uh," I said. I think I said uh about forty times as often when I was around girls as I did guys. I tried to explain why the sewer was shaped like an x^2, and sound like I knew what I was saying, which I didn't.
        "Do you have any idea what you're talking about?" asked Holly.
        "Yeah," I said, I did know what I was talking about, I just didn't know if it had any bearing on real life. And continued, "You see, then you rotate the function x^2 around the axis, and you get this thing that you can fill up with sewage."
        "So," said Holly and paused, staring at me oddly, "How many times per minute can I flush the toilet and have it not overflow out of our x^2 sewer?"
        I did some more figuring with my calculator, so I could tell her, and impress her, "about negative three times." I answered.
        "How would I unflush the toilet three times?" asked Holly, "and what a lousy sewer for that matter."
        "With a big plunger?" I suggested.
        "Right, Phil," said Holly. We sort of sat there in silence waiting for something, "Phil," said Holly, "is there something wrong with you?"

        Deep down I knew there were several things wrong with me. But I didn't really feel like mentioning all of them. The best solution was for me to go back to the mothership and just try and forget about it all. When I reached the mothership, I knew the only thing I could do to redeem myself was to spend some quality time with Lukey scarring him.
        I went into my room, took off my shirt and then walked into his room.
        "Hey Lukey," I screamed at him.
        "Put your shirt back on," said Luke.
        "No," I said, "Look at what I can do with my chest!" I then proudly proceeded to jiggle my boobs alternately. One up, one down. One down, one up. Back and forth, like I was a super hero or something, showing off my muscles.
        "That's disgusting," cried Luke. Deep down I'm sure he was impressed and jealous. His chest was as flat as a well sanded board.
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