Other kids in my classes.

Bear with me as I reminisce about all the hours of my life that have been wasted by theoretical questions that fellow students (you know who you are) have asked in my class.

Math Class:
Hey you, kid who sits in the front section every day, and who says hi to that other guy everyday ever since he made a funny aside about something the professor said which you overheard and you almost shat your pants laughing because of its hilarious intentions of disobeying the professor in some stupid way. (GUFFAW!)
I think your name is Alex.
Yeah, you're Alex, who always says "Question..." as you raise your hand just to make sure that the professor can have his train of thought interrupted and be forced to recognize that you have a question. It makes it a lot harder for the prof to ignore you now, even though he wants to so bad.
You know why?
Because you ask the most worthless, piece-of-shit theoretical questions "Just for [your] understanding..." When we're learning a basic concept, the basis theorem for the homework and stuff, it is not at all worthwhile to ask a question that takes the example problem on the board and makes it into a problem that has literally zero relevance to the material at hand, much less the entire course material for the year. I think that you get turned on by the sound of your own voice as it echoes through an entirely silent classroom of kids, rushing past the ears of the dumbfounded professor. I've seen your hard-on after class.
I also know that you have a strategy to keep the professor answering your questions too. It involves saying "Thank you..." every time there's a lull in the answer he, by profession, is required to give you. Or at least try and give you, because sometimes your questions really are that fucking stupid. This means that for every question you ask, there are at least four or five awkward "thank you" moments when you overlap the answer you asked for while the professor is speaking. See, he had the intention that you wanted to hear the entire answer, not realizing that you have no idea what the shit any part of the answer even means.
What I really think is at that point in the exchange you're starting to get off, and the signs of your climax are the awkwardly timed praises you release as your brain orgasms in time with the response from up front.

Please, shut your mouth, Alex. As much as I HATE math, I just don't need you wasting that much of my life. I feel stupid when you get away with your shit, and I hate how my silence is part of your sexual gratification.