Okay, so my Leadership professor decided she would give us a take-home midterm because she...was never there. Her solution to make up for the fact that she's obviously viewing teaching as her retirement and just not showing up when she feels like it is to give us a four-part twelve page essay due in four days. When she saw our faces she said, "Come on, this is supposed to be FUN. It's not like I gave you a ten-page paper," and one girl said, "...it's twelve pages." The logic fairy is not with this woman. I know where she can stick her Coke shares.
The perching animals are the BEST animals.

With regard to our recent meteorological afflictions...can anyone tell me exactly what a cubit is? First person to do so wins a spot on the deck with the long-eared and perching animals.
Also. Life is good, mostly. Mostly.

Hee. Puppy is going to be in a coffee-table book. There are no words.

Except for the even bigger 'heeeee,' brought on by the fact that you can now buy him in poster form.

Why Irony and Dinosaur Should Not Be Allowed Text Messaging, or Why Irony and Dinosaur Should Totally Write Every TV Show Ever

Irony: Is Vaughn still dead?

A Dinosaur: No, he clawed his way out of his grave. Because he's Buffy.

Irony: Dude. They could put him in pigtails and he could carry around a stick called Mr. Pointy.

A Dinosaur: That's the only thing that could redeem the show at this point.

Irony: I know. It has to turn into camp farce. They should make Jack and Sloane into felt puppets.

A Dinosaur: No, Jack has to be a giant, snarky disembodied head.

Irony: Hee! He could be that sadistic disembodied head we saw that one time!

A Dinosaur: But that head wasn't disembodied. It had a body, it was just really small.

Irony: Even better! A giant Jack head in a vat with a little midget body attached. He could make pronouncements.

A Dinosaur: And Marshall should be a dog

Irony: A little yappy talking dog like from Mars Attacks. This show would rock.

A Dinosaur: Vaughn could be the Ghost of Christmas Forehead.

Irony: You complete me...Tranny Ramirez has the eyes of a dead shark and I hate him.

A Dinosaur: Hee. Now you complete me.

Irony: ...So together we are like, three people?

A Dinosaur: More like six. You have to factor in ego.

Irony: Once again you have completed me. We are getting into multiplication here. I am the baby Jesus and I am crying.