Bubble Baths Reduce the Frequency of Mass Murder

Some of my friends have heard excessively by now that I took a five-week culinary arts course over the summer, and also of my unfortunate pairing with a horrible lab partner. The man had to have Asberger's or something, I can't really fathom how he managed to pass the prerequisites for the class.

In order to qualify for the course, one had to complete a Basic Skills class, which taught such things as how make the classic French cuts, sanitation, the best cooking or prep tool for the job, and other essential information one should know before working in a professional kitchen. The Basic Skills class also required basic understanding of English and Math for obvious reasons. It should also be noted that classic Western cuisine, what many consider fine dining or gourmet, is founded on French techniques, because they figured out how to be awesome at it first and make money while doing so.

Bearing all this information in mind, I was constantly amazed that this guy knew so little about what we were doing and why we were doing it, ESPECIALLY AFTER BEING SHOWN WHAT TO DO. Now I myself am the sort of person who likes knowing "what" and "why," if  my DVR backlogs of Mythbusters and Good Eats are any sort of glaring indication, but if a person in the culinary arts doesn't understand the concept of 'reduce' or 'whip egg whites to a foam' when instructed to do so, I think they need to instead apply for a truck driver's certificate. For example:

I have been doodling more such little comics about my frustrating experiences, and am strongly considering posting them here, where the likelihood of me caring about someone being insulted is relatively low. I will mention too, how if it were not for the jacuzzi tub bubble baths I took on a weekly basis, I think I may have resorted to mass murder at my culinary arts school.