Methamphetamines are a professor's best friend

Remember a year ago, when the University of St. Scholastica, a private college in Duluth, MN, threatened to sue me? I removed the problematic pages at their request, and wrote a very sarcastic column about the potential lawsuit, ripping on them for being a bunch of pompous asses.

Well, it seems their school isn't quite as pompous these days. One of their professors was recently arrested for producing and selling methamphetamines. Oops. I guess St. Scholastica doesn't care enough about their students to do a simple drug test before hiring someone. Kmart knows enough to do that, but a college run by nuns doesn't. Public high schools in Minneapolis with pee stains in the hallways can afford to give their janitors drug tests, but a $22,066* per year college won't pony up the dough to make sure their professors are clean. With a school that advertises such strict Benedictine values, you'd think they'd be a little more stringent with their background checks. To quote Helen Lovejoy from The Simpsons, "WON'T ANYONE THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN?!?"

The professor in question, 37-year-old Samuel Khoury, still lives with his parents. You'd think parents who hold Benedictine values would know when their 37-year-old man-boy has a car full of meth. My parents, who haven't gone to church since the Dodgers played in Brooklyn, would certainly notice if I kept beakers and test tubes in my room. And Khoury is a man-boy. It's okay to live at home with your parents to save money, but anyone above the age of 30 who does so is a sissy foo foo man-boy who needs to remove himself from his mother's teat and start buying milk at the store like everyone else.

Then again, maybe Khoury had the money to move out, but just wanted to leech money from his parents for as long as possible. If that's the case, then it's no wonder they hired him at St. Scholastica. He's exactly like their students.

But let's not call him "Samuel Khoury". Let's refer to him as "Professor Crackhead" for the remainder of this column.

Prof. Crackhead was also caught with a small amount of marijuana. But maybe we shouldn't criticize Prof. Crackhead for his drug use. I mean, really, if I were a man with deep Benedictine values, I can't think of anything that would get me more in the mood to start thinking 'bout Jesus than some pot and two Ziploc bags full of methamphetamines. Add a cherry slurpee from 7-11 into the mix, and I'd practically be in heaven anyway.

Actually, I'm more of a beer and pizza man, but hey, to each their own. Though if finding Jesus requires tying a belt around your arm and injecting yourself with a syringe full of liquified speed, you might want to look into one of the many other religions our world offers. Or you might want counseling with a therapist who specializes in dumbasses.

But maybe Prof. Crackhead is getting counseling. When reporters went to the house of his parents this week (which, ironically, had a "Duluth Police Neighborhood Crime Watch" sticker on the front door), the parents said Prof. Crackhead was out of town and couldn't be reached. So I figure he was either off getting help for his addiction, or lying on a cold concrete floor somewhere, drooling, with a dirty syringe half full of cooked meth still hanging from his arm. Probably the latter.

The College of St. Scholastica: "Learning to touch the world!"

The last time I made fun of St. Scholastica, I received a few angry and bitter letters from students who attend the school. They scoffed at me for my immaturity, saying I was just jealous because I'd never be accepted at such a "fine school". Well, just to set the record straight, I got a 27 on my ACT's during high school, which is one above the highest recommendation for incoming St. Scholastica students. So eat it, rich kids. Eat it or next time I'll squirt it in your hair.

Some of the other letters I received claimed I was bitter because my poor education had left me with no future. To set the record straight yet again, I got a job very quickly after graduating, have already won awards in my field, and started out making around $5,000 more than the average entry-level salary in my field. Suck it long. Suck it hard. Suck it while humming your school song. It feels better that way. Ooooooooh, baby.

But hey, I'm getting off track. We're not here to talk about what a genius I am, or how I'm smarter than most of the pampered preppy brats at St. Scholastica. No, we're here to talk about the meth-addicted scumbag who teaches accounting at St. Scholastica. Speaking of that, should a 37-year-old man who has yet to save enough money to move out of his parents basement really be allowed to teach accounting? If Prof. Crackhead really knew accounting, shouldn't he have been able to figure out a way to afford his own apartment by now?

I guess that's what you pay for at those expensive private schools: an accounting teacher who can't afford his own apartment, a human resources department that hires drug fiends, and a degree that will probably get you less or (if you're lucky) as much success as one from a college like mine, which charges $15,386* less per year.

*Yearly cost for my college, UW-Superior, is $6,680. "Yearly cost" for both colleges includes tuition and cheapest on-campus housing available, with a health service fee added for St. Scholastica, since you have to pay for it there. Numbers for St. Scholastica are available here. Numbers for UW-Superior are available here.

Continuing with the theme of drinks with ridiculous names, here's one called "Ostrich Shit". 1 oz. Peppermint schnapps 8 oz. Coffee 2 tsp. Sugar It's getting cold out, and while this drink has a rather graphic and unfortunate name, it's great for coffee drinkers during that first cold spell of the year.

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mrhoades@css.edu               m-squad@juno.com                                           zwerst@css.edu

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