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Writer's pictureRichie SEBU

Bubbleguts

Updated: Jan 1

You know exactly what I am talking about. I know many of you out there may deny this at first, and probably make fun of me due to the high levels of embarrassment, but eventually the truth will come out. It happens to all of us, and I figure it's better if we talk about it instead of hiding it.


If you are still a little confused and aren't sure what I am talking about, I feel it is my duty to inform you. You know that little sound that your stomach makes when you are extremely hungry? Or the sound when you eat some foreign college food that your poor little tummy has yet to be vaccinated for? Or the sound that your belly makes prior to a big presentation, but never stops chirping until long after your presentation is done? If you still do not understand, those were all examples of Bubbleguts. There are various situations where this demon decides to visit including free throws during a basketball game, conversation with professors, or everyone's favorite, the first conversation with the specific someone you finally built up enough courage to talk to (don't point fingers...it has happened to all of us).


Since everyone is up to speed with the definition, we can continue on...


As always, I will take you monsters into a story in my own life so you can laugh at me and appreciate your lives a little bit more. It's just what I do.


In the thick of finals week, I found that my new address can be located in Study Table. Study Table is a quiet study hall, similar to study hall that you high school mongrels are required to go to for about 40 minutes a day. The only difference is we are required 8 hours a week as freshmen. Do the math yourself...my last math class was two days ago.


Anyways, while in Study Table, I have been working like a madman. Studying, then working, then studying some more while finishing homework. It has been quite the experience. On top of the glorious workload, I have noticed that I frequently use my "inside voice" when I do not particularly intend to do so. Each time my stomach talks, I quickly look around to see if anyone will notice, or answer to my stomachs belligerent requests (ones that I am yet to find out myself). While scanning the room, I usually see a mass of students either listening to music, talking with their friends, watching movies, or doing their homework with their eyes fastened shut and drool slightly flowing down their chins, none of which constitute as "schoolwork" but that's for another day. When I am done browsing the crowd, it seems as though no one has noticed but I still feel a sense of discomfort and humiliation. Then I think to myself..."Richie, each time someone awkwardly stops what they are doing and looks around suspiciously....they probably are experiencing the same thing as me. No worries big guy. Get back to work".


Yet another unwritten exam that I have been successful in. Although I know sometimes your stomach can sound like thunder rumbling, lightning striking, or a cell phone vibrating during a final exam, but those are all just in your head.


I am by no means saying that it is acceptable, and one should start sharing this sound with others because it is actually quite disturbing. I have tried to convince myself and you all that these sounds are only in your head. Quite frankly I have fabricated the truth, just as anyone before me who has tackled this dilemma. Everyone can hear it. Everyone is just good pretending like they didn't. This is the first college exam I haven't passed. Shame on me and to those others who have failed with me (everyone who is alive has). Don't worry, it is only as awkward as you make it. Do as I do now and pretend it never happened. Believe me, it works.


With this being one of my more suggestive posts, I hope you can still appreciate me. In this post I have simply addressed a quite humorous event that we all go through. Don't judge me too harshly. If you do, there really isn't much I can do so be my guest.


As I repeatedly say, I hope you enjoyed this blog as much as I enjoyed writing it. Go in peace. Until next time...don't call me GaGa.


Long Live The Prince

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