My Transformation

I am becoming a gentleman. If I act like a slob, Judy kicks my ass. It all started with her fart ban. No farts allowed in class. Then gas was forbidden in oral form too. 
Holy Toledo, she is strict!

Now she is working on goober-hawking. That is one of my signature moves. No one hawks up goobers like me. 

So if I can’t hawk up goobers or belch or fart…who am I?  

I am having an identity crisis.

I guess I am going to have to reinvent myself. Gentleman Matt will hold the door open for ladies and say, “Yes, indeed, I would like a cup of tea” and “These crumpets are delectable.”  I will spell with a British accent.  And yes, that is zed, not zee.  

As I typed this, I felt the need to pass gas (or should I say wind?)  But Judy’s judgemental evil eye is on me, so I am holding it in.  I have hawked up the occasional goober, but I am a work in progress. 

It is hard work, this metamorphosis, but I shall overcome. 
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P.s.  I just learned that I can no longer enjoy the smell of my feet. This whole gentleman thing is really, really hard.