Death comes for us all (a melodramatic haiku of retirement)
Alas! this blog is
no longer where it is at.
Onwards! (Back to home.)



guts and garters

It's all fun and games until someone loses molecular cohesion.

Wednesday, November 07, 2001

I hate it when lecturers ask me how long an extension I think I need. I teeter between asking for lots of time, but being thought a slacker or something, or asking for only a little time, and then stressing myself out and probably not getting it done on time. It's much better when they say: "Right, you have three days." Then, when I'm facing the deadline and sweating every extra second, I can at least have a mantra like: "Fucking evil bastard" to get me through.

I think I'll bite the bullet, and ask for next Wednesday.

Meanwhile, the internet won't work. (Dee smacks it upside the head with a large trout.)

You disrepecting me? Take him out.

(Oh yeah, I'm old-skool.)

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