His Blogger V2

assignment: blog

I felt his eyes burning in the back of my skull, searing my insides, and grinding them to dust. He was watching my every move, eliciting uncomfortable anxiety that flushed my cheeks.

Weirdly enough, I had never seen this man... like ever, up until yesterday. Ace magically materialized into my world, snaking his way into life like a deadly python. My point is, why is he in my class? Who the fuck is this guy?

All these questions gave me increasingly more reasons to get to know him. Just for my safety. Not for sex.

I massaged my temples lazily, relaxing in the chair. Focus, Danny.

Mr. Lambert, the journalism professor, continued to ramble on about the fundamentals of writing. Though incredibly intelligent, I find him so strange. Last week he taught us while wearing pajamas and a top hat, claiming it was Abraham Lincoln appreciation day... but never explained the deal with the jammies.

Mr. Lambert knows his shit, but is an oddity within the university. Honestly, I was concerned for his sanity most of the time. So, when a neon green wig emerged from his suit jacket, I was a little less than surprised.

"I've had a revelation. Prepare to be amazed" He screeched, excitedly pulling out his laptop. I tried to hide a smile, but couldn't contain the absolute hilarity coursing through my bones.

"Mr. Lambert... what's up with the wig?" I asked hesitantly, eyeing the other people in the room for help.

"Shh! Listen!" He began slapping his fingers on the keyboard. Beaming, he swiftly spun the laptop around for us to see. "Instead of forcing y'all to do a boring final research paper... you will have a choice! The research paper, or an online blog. Before you ask any questions, I have updated the syllabus, and it now contains any and all information about your blog. So, here is the run down..." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, searching for the right words. "It must be published to a real website where all humans can see, and it must be all about you. Basically, you're journaling your daily life. But it has to be entertaining, as I am testing everyone's ability to take information about a certain topic, A.K.A your life, and transform it into an entertaining, knowledgable piece."

I watched Mr. Lambert spread his legs and shake his hands... jazz hands. Oh, god, secondhand embarrassment.

I stood, hands clapping loudly. Mostly because the awkwardness was starting to become unbearable, and no one was throwing him a bone. Damnit, embrace the awkward! "Wonderful, Mr. Lambert. Just amazing!"

He waved his hands in the air, bowing as if he had just performed a broadway show."Thank you, thank you. Before I end the class, are there any questions?"

Ace and I raised our arms, carefully considering different questions.

"Can we censor some things? I mean, the most I ever do is drink... I'm pretty sure the world doesn't want to hear that... or, you Mr. Lambert?"

He shook his head, no. "On the contrary, my friend, I want to read about everything. Your past, your present. I live for this type of drama. Besides, this is a judgment-free zone. Just... not too many gory details, please. This is not an erotic fiction novel, it's a tale of you. I'm pretty sure it's all kinds of illegal if I read about y'alls sex lives. Just, keep it PG-13, friends. Think wedding, not wedding night. Capiche?"

I nodded, happy to have my question answered. This assignment would give me an excuse to end my writer's block. It's a light at the end of the tunnel, and I've never been more ecstatic to start an assignment.

"Mr. Mitchell, you have a question?" The professor asked, adjusting the green wig sitting in his forehead.

"Yeah... do we have to use our real names? I don't need any more of my life plastered across social media" He sighed, tilting his head regretfully. I frowned, propping my weight against a chair. What the hell does that mean?