Hong Kong Fooey: number one super guy
Thesis! Theee-Seas! ThisIsEasy? (see Talan Memmott)
Greetings to you, all you masters degree holding sunuvabitches. Like it or not, soon I will be one of you and you'll have to teach me the secret handshake. I'll roll up to one of your swank parties with my moose ears, fez, or whatever the fuck you smart folk wear, and try to make MC (Master of Canines) Sophocles do a kegstand. I'll be that guy - you know I will. Laughing a little too loud, intentionally describing my exploits to someone well across the room so that everyone will hear, I'm so fucking uncooth. Question: Is there hazing? Do I have to lick the bottoms of your shoes or something? 'Cuz I'll do it, swear to God. Panty raids? Oh hell yeah, count me in. Let's beat the shit out of those Bachelors motherfuckers. Seniority is a bitch, but it's the way of the world. MS4Eva! Ten years from now, at the big reunion, we'll all get together and compare our bulging Buddah bellies (we're being generous - we all know their beer guts) and laugh at the disappointments we've become. We had so much promise, so much energy. Now where are we? Sweeping the floor at Target? Better than Frank over there... He's a crack whore. Pride is for the weak, we'll say. Oh God, this is depressing.
Everyone wants to think that their thesis is going to save the world. It's only sensible. You toil and sweat, pounding those wily little keys, hoping that at some point you are going to look at the screen and realize that you've solved the worlds' problems. But what if it really does happen? What if Lady Luck comes a'knockin, and you're shooting blanks? What then? You are TEH MASTER, man! You gotta know your stuff, rope them cattle like a pro, leap from conceptual tree to tree with naught but your highly-trained mental agility to keep you airborne. It's a tough world out there, and you of all people should know that you aren't going to get by on your looks alone, so come off it. Put on some makeup and hit the books. Your two best friends right now are Cover Girl and Starbucks, and if you don't like that, then head back to "college".
Redbelt strikes again.
In related news, I think some fucking ninja broke in and punched me in the lumbar last night, because my back is killing me. My lumbar is killing me, and could really use some support. I need lumbar support, and these cheap-ass school chairs just aren't up to the task. Luckily, I know just exactly what the fuck we need. Imagine this - you know that dude on that commercial? He's a British dude and he's talking about vacuuming. He's frustrated, clearly, with the way that vacuums don't work. "I was vacuuming one day when I realized that I was really accomplishing absolutely nothing," he says. Anyway, we (meaning my classmates and I) need that dude to get all frustrated with the lack of lumbar support in cheap-ass school chairs. Then he'll sit his dandy ass down at his fancy drafting table and fix this problem once and for all and maybe next time some ninja breaks into my room at night and punches me in the lumbar, there will be some soothing relief waiting for me at school. Amen.
Greetings to you, all you masters degree holding sunuvabitches. Like it or not, soon I will be one of you and you'll have to teach me the secret handshake. I'll roll up to one of your swank parties with my moose ears, fez, or whatever the fuck you smart folk wear, and try to make MC (Master of Canines) Sophocles do a kegstand. I'll be that guy - you know I will. Laughing a little too loud, intentionally describing my exploits to someone well across the room so that everyone will hear, I'm so fucking uncooth. Question: Is there hazing? Do I have to lick the bottoms of your shoes or something? 'Cuz I'll do it, swear to God. Panty raids? Oh hell yeah, count me in. Let's beat the shit out of those Bachelors motherfuckers. Seniority is a bitch, but it's the way of the world. MS4Eva! Ten years from now, at the big reunion, we'll all get together and compare our bulging Buddah bellies (we're being generous - we all know their beer guts) and laugh at the disappointments we've become. We had so much promise, so much energy. Now where are we? Sweeping the floor at Target? Better than Frank over there... He's a crack whore. Pride is for the weak, we'll say. Oh God, this is depressing.
Everyone wants to think that their thesis is going to save the world. It's only sensible. You toil and sweat, pounding those wily little keys, hoping that at some point you are going to look at the screen and realize that you've solved the worlds' problems. But what if it really does happen? What if Lady Luck comes a'knockin, and you're shooting blanks? What then? You are TEH MASTER, man! You gotta know your stuff, rope them cattle like a pro, leap from conceptual tree to tree with naught but your highly-trained mental agility to keep you airborne. It's a tough world out there, and you of all people should know that you aren't going to get by on your looks alone, so come off it. Put on some makeup and hit the books. Your two best friends right now are Cover Girl and Starbucks, and if you don't like that, then head back to "college".
Redbelt strikes again.
In related news, I think some fucking ninja broke in and punched me in the lumbar last night, because my back is killing me. My lumbar is killing me, and could really use some support. I need lumbar support, and these cheap-ass school chairs just aren't up to the task. Luckily, I know just exactly what the fuck we need. Imagine this - you know that dude on that commercial? He's a British dude and he's talking about vacuuming. He's frustrated, clearly, with the way that vacuums don't work. "I was vacuuming one day when I realized that I was really accomplishing absolutely nothing," he says. Anyway, we (meaning my classmates and I) need that dude to get all frustrated with the lack of lumbar support in cheap-ass school chairs. Then he'll sit his dandy ass down at his fancy drafting table and fix this problem once and for all and maybe next time some ninja breaks into my room at night and punches me in the lumbar, there will be some soothing relief waiting for me at school. Amen.