Apparently Monday and Wednesday afternoons breed rambling, balding, slightly drunk professors who teach ephemeral, flighty, slightly uncommon subjects.

Professor Rhetoric stumbled into the room, dazedly saying, "It was summer like five minutes ago. Now i'm a teacher." He proceeded to tell us he doesn't know what rhetoric is. And finally he commended the Fourth Biggest Party School status UCSB has earned, promising we'd celebrate by getting drunk the last week of class...

Professor John Milton requires a final 6-12 page paper of "lucid prose" and assigned "too much reading to read" for the first week of class. He doesn't tolerate interpretive welfare and when asked a question about what the weekly commentaries he assigned entail, he said, "I don't know."

Off to class?