After being sent off the college premises for what seemed like eternity, I finally enrolled for what many called a ‘man’s job.’
But fuck all those who said so, because, in our first lecture on Gynaecology, I got shocked to find 65% of the class filled with dick-less skirts…if you know what I mean.
(By the way, do you know using so much vulgar vocabulary is a sign of limited intelligence…and pretty much I’ve said ‘fuck’ a lot so it means…..oh, fuck you, dickbreath.)
 
But to answer your question on why I enrolled for gynaecology in the first place (thanks for asking!), I will first make a brief comment on the initial motive.
 
Forgive my random thoughts, but gynaecology is a subject that has always fascinated me. I just wanted to know what makes us tick. Not just ticking, everything to do with bras and stuff.
   For one, I have always admired the female creature (sorry dicks!), needless to say I am one myself, but just seeing the way we evolved (or got created? Whatever crazy crackpot ideas are out there!) makes me deepen my understanding on why….
 
Is it giving you a headache? Alright, just know I was fascinated with the making of pussies. Sounds vulgar but it’ll work for the meantime.
Anyways, besides just ‘searching’ for why we had pussies (sorry, dickhead, if I make you erect!), I was also looking for a course that’d improve my overall sense of being.
 
I wanted to put my life into something worthwhile, and wham, gynaecology came to my list. Why gynaecology?
Dude, are you sleeping or something? I said, because it has little Maths, full stop.
And second, it had less theory.
I loved the practical bit though. Our lecturer was a cute 30-something gentleman, and that’s why maybe I never got bored.
If there was anything I was going to do best, it was gynaecology, studying pussies and stuff. How cool would that be!
One student during the praciticals put off everything. I’m not a guy, but I really got off when she showed us those perfectly round tits.
Kinda of jiggly I’d say, but no, for the sake of consistency, I’d stick with the perfectly-round description.
 
So, there she is standing, with her everything off (Note: If you could pay me a million right now, I swear to God, I still wouldn’t be able to do what she did!)
No, I can do the bras and panties off part. But not her masturbating, infront of everyone. That part was really cringe.
 
“The vagina is made of thick walls…” The Lecturer continued as though nothing had happened. She was just a demonstration, so literally no one was getting into trouble. I mean, she was over 18, where in the world could you sue our class.
Moving on!
 
After the first seminar, my head was all in for Gynaecology. You see, when you do something that you really love from within you, there’s no such thing as ‘do this’ or ‘do that!’ : everything happens out of excitement.
      I think that’s how Maths students used to get A’s back in High School. I donno. Just a random guessing, but I swear to God if they had replaced Maths with gynaecology at High School, no one, not even the Professors themselves, would beat me in any test.
 
 
     So, a month into the classroom and I’m feeling it. There was a problem though, one which was secretively unknown to gynaecology enthusiasts at the time.