Staring sidewards at sexy people was half the fun of school.
Whether it was high school or college, my biological inclinations would tell me “he’s sexy”, “she’s sexy”, or “that’s sexy” (whenever I got back my badass biotech grades). But now, the University of Texas nursing program is taking a syringe and sucking all the fun out of college by suppressing expression via exposed flesh – but only for vagina owners.
The natural question is, “wait – why doesn’t it mention what men can’t wear?!”
Yeah, there is that. I mean, if it hadn’t been for all of those guys who came into my Organic chem class with their shirts off every damned day, I would’ve made the dean’s list every time. Oh wait, that wasn’t O-chem. It was a football tailgate. Because that’s the only place men show off their bodies and it’s usually opposite of sexy. What was distracting, however, was my Physics professor’s rump in those khakis he’d wear. My good friend and I didn’t need to say anything. Just gently exchange glances and nod in approval.
Really, this thing’s almost more sexist against the men themselves.
I mean, the code aims to “protect” them. Bit patronizing, no? To say they can’t concentrate in a learning environment because the womenfolk are bustin’ out, is tantamount to saying they have no self-control. What assholes! I mean, essentially this deprives them of both the basic college ogling experience and preparation for the real world. That “career” mentality was exactly the excuse my genetics professor gave for only teaching the 8 A.M. classes that I never went to.
And that was fine for relevant things like rising before the ass crack of dawn (even though it sounds so late now that I’m old)
But if the point of college isn’t to take in all the well exposed co-ed eye candy, shouldn’t it at least be to challenge ourselves for the work force? When you go become a nurse, you won’t get to choose what the patients or doctors wear – and what’re you gonna do then?
Lose self control?
It’s like the whole #notaskingforit campaign. If I come to class dressed as Boogie Nights roller girl, that doesn’t magically transform my lady cave into a peen landing strip. So get a grip. You’d best just practice suppressing sexy urges now, my friends. Everyone, wear what you like. Class dismissed.
Except you, young man in the front with the guyliner and tight pants.
Meet me in my orifice. I mean office.