For once in his life, my lecturer at university

So I stood up in the class, "So what you are telling me is that we should vivisect the poor's brains in hopes of finding a cure for cancer?" The professor stammered "Um.. let me

rephrase that. Um...yes." The class gasped collectively. "Budget cuts in higher ed have necessitated this measure," explained the prof. "Poor people don't need their brains. A cure

for Nancy?" The prof. let the question hang in the air, like a bucket of fish guts swinging from a boathouse. Man did I hate Human Sexuality 101. I thought it was going to teach me

if the G-Spot existed. But talk of Nancy filled every lecture, like guts fill a fish. Our field trips to the boathouse were also puzzling. Did human sexuality smell like fish guts?

And if so, what did fish sexuality smell like? I zipped up my wet suit and flippered out to find a sardine to talk to. Bobbing on the high seas I met a sexy mackerel. Sniffing its

emissions was difficult because I was wearing a mask & had a mouthpiece, so I removed both & took a deep sniff. The sea water filled my nostrils. The sexy mackeral looked less sexy

, more fishy. He winked at me & said his name was Gil. I gasped & jerked away. Trying to calm myself, I focused on the undulating waves and breathed slowly. I began to feel sick.

But not nearly as sick as the guy behind me was about to be. The fish puns were sailing over my head for the most part, which meant the guy behind me was catching them. I started

to carp about the situation, but he handed me something and said, "Calm down, chum. When fish are falling from the sky, the best thing to do is put this tarpon." Then he croakered.