Tales of a Brown-Haired Freak

I'm fairly (read - 99%) certain that our new physio prof is a vampire. Or at least from transylvania. Or maybe related to Cruella De'vil. Yes, she claims to be from South Africa, but I know my accents, and her's is most definitely not from SA. Possibly not even from this planet, but that's a bit more farfetched than I want to get right now. My proof? She's older than any legitimate human being should be, she got oddly dreamy shile discussing the role of the bloodstream in endocrinology, and she says the word "human" like I say "Northern Haiy-Nosed Wobat, ie, I'm familiar with the species, but have no relation to it and find it interesting only in abstract. Also, I've never seen her out in the sun.

5 words into the lecture, half the class broke out in somewhat hysterical giggles at the thought of 14 lectures of listening to this particular child of the night mangle her way through various hormone names and the other half began packing up their stuff (quietly, so as not to draw her attention) before she could get to the whole blood-sucking thing. I left somewhere after the 6h mention of the hyypo-thaaaaaahhlamoose and, well, here I am. No wonder Dr H was grinning so hard as he left Bell, the bastard.

I definitely needed a laugh and I suppose the universe has obliged me rather nicely, but I'm beginning to suspect I know where the campus dogs have been disappearing to. If I see her walking around in a new fur coat in the next few days, I'm investing in garlic and crucifixes.