Queso Dick

Enough about smooth legged Caleb, let's bring it south of the border. Mexico. "Canada's Colon" as its referred to in my apartment. That's where this next Queso Dick is from. Gerardo "Jerry" Mota. 

Jerry and I were like two peas in a pathetic, slightly border-line mentally challenged pod. In our graduating class, him and I were the only seniors who had no research experience. Our classmates were published at this point, while the Mexican and the probably Indian-me hadn’t even been allowed in a lab. So we started to get our shit together and put our asses in gear. “Let’s do it!” said nobody.

As biomedical engineering students…it was pretty imperative that we find research opportunities dealing with our field. You know…like absolutely anything dealing with the human body. So naturally, I end up landing a research position working on goddamn helicopters. My assumption was to turn this opportunity into a potential Inspector Gadget type project. That never happened…I wasn’t allowed to touch much in this lab. Jerry, on the other hand, is much less classy. His research project was on fucking vacuum cleaners. Not “fucking” vacuum cleaners…you get it. His project actually was on bed bugs and he had to use a specific type of vacuum to be able to suck them up and do research on them.

In doing this project, Jerry had to get samples off of volunteer’s beds. He would show up with his Ghost Busters vacuum cleaner and go to town on the volunteer’s bed. He was a natural at this type of housekeeping duty for some reason. If the volunteer’s bed happened to have bed bugs…the research department would trade them a brand new mattress for the bed bug petri dished mattress they were sleeping on. Good deal, right?

Jerry came to my house. He claimed that none of his volunteers had bedbugs yet, and he wanted to find some for science. So he came to my house.

I didn't know what was more fucked up. The fact that my "friend" was confident that my bed had bedbugs or the fact that I was even more confident that it did and began painting a picture of me in my brand new bed! Maybe I’ll get a temperpedic racecar waterbed! Oh the endless options. My imagination ran wild.

The results were negative.

Very mixed emotions for everyone involved at this major milestone in Life of Omar. Jerry now shifted his confidence to now being confident that he made an error in his research. He was willing to degrade his own research skills on how confident he was that my bed would have bed bugs. Well fuck Jerry Mota. 

Jerry and I became friends when I realized he was the other dude in the study group that wasn't talking much. When people don't talk in study groups, I've come to realize it is because of the following reasons:

1. They  truly are the smartest student in class. They want to know what everyone else knows, sharing nothing of what they know. They do this to secure cerebral dominance over the rest of us idiots. These fucks also say things like "I didn't study at all for this exam" when everyone knows that they were spending their Friday nights in the library while me and dumdums were trying to see which alcohols you could light on fire before you drank it. Jerry was not this person. I knew this because he was wearing a Tony Romo jersey.

2. Socially awkward kids. They are a part of these study groups to look at the pretty girls and possibly collect the hair that falls off her head in hopes they can build their own version in their closets. There were actually a little too many of these kids.  

3. Class dumdum. Jerry was this. I know this because he was wearing a Tony Romo jersey. I also know this because I too was the class dumdum. I'd like to state now that Jerry and I have grown up and become successful brown men in the working world, but we are both still very confused of how we got here. I'd also like to clarify that we weren't dumb, he just had a hard time grasping concepts because he was in his mid-50s, and for me, I forgot I had to go to class for a couple of years. But when we met, everything was about change. We began our friendship smoking the first of 100s of study cigarettes together. We gathered a couple of Indians on our squad immediately, because that is the first step to success. Shout out to Ronic like Sonic, and lets get mothafuckin Rachit!

We did our projects together. I think it is because no one else wanted us, Jerry tried to convince us it was because we were too cool. That wasn't the case. I know this wasn't the case because of the heated arguments we would get in. And also because Jerry was wearing a Tony Romo jersey when I first met him.

Our very last project together…we had to develop a medical device from our imagination. Jerry was so sold on his device. Please sit back as I explain this child sex toy he wanted to develop.

"Hey man, you know how babies always drop their pacifiers? Why don't we develop a pacifier that straps around the babies head and stays in?"

"um, how about we don't do that Jerry. Putting a fucking choke gag on a baby won't get us anywhere in life, and definitely won't get us this degree.”

Tony Romo sucks.