College Days

You’ve heard about the novel.

You’ve read the short stories.

You’ve seen the… whatever you’ve seen; I can’t say for sure.

But now you’re probably wondering, what is Gabe doing at college? I’ve asked myself this question many times, and now I’m going to try to answer it for everyone. It’s probably not what everyone’s expecting. I’m an artist. In retrospect, that was probably implied by my stating I was a “Fine Arts” major. But yes, I draw, I paint and I sculpt. I can’t do those last two very well at all, but that’s what I’m in school to learn.

Here’s the main issue with the Fine Arts major: there is a great lack of testosterone. This is not because men are unable to sculpt and paint and draw. For some reason, it’s considered a less masculine affair. I’m not sure why this is. Many of the great painters were, in fact, men. Da Vinci was a man. Van Gogh was a man. Salvador Dali was a man. Claud Monet was a man. The Phantom of the Opera was a man.

Admittedly, that last person is fictional, but technically he still invented a ton of stuff.


But anyhow, there is a lack of testosterone. I’ve noticed it multiple times in the years I’ve been here. I noticed it especially yesterday, when I walked into ceramics class for the first time. Class size? 20. Girls? 19. Guys? Me and the professor.

Upon noticing the situation, the professor walked over to me and pleaded, “Don’t quit! I need some support in this room!”

“Yes, sir!” I replied with intense head nodding.

Speaking of ceramics, did you know that if you put Core 05 Clay in a kiln at 2000 degrees rather than Core 5 Clay, you could straight up melt your ceramics? I didn’t. Also, it turns out you can’t look at a kiln while it’s at its max heat, or you will straight up burn your eyes and permanantly damage your eyesight.

Dangerous stuff, this ceramic business.

Possibly more dangerous than those fencing classes I’m taking. I’m really only taking them so that I can become Inigo Montoya. Hopefully someone does not kill my father, but if they do, I can avenge him.

“Hello, my name is Gabriel Penn. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”