What Do Pirates Call Taking A Dump?

Me: I think that it is time for the campus club [ed: the bar one floor down from Zach’s office]
Zach: are we going?
Me: I’ll go if you go
Zach: ok I might dock a boat then
Zach: before
Me: you mean scuttle a ship in the pearly white ocean?
Zach: drop the coast guard rescue diver into the white seas
Me: Eew. That implies that you will be reeling the diver back into the rescue helicopter.
Zach: with guest.

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Jack of All Trades

The Best Show Ever is Out On DVD!

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I’m Looking Forward To Black Tarry Stools

Dear Ibuprofen,
I know what you’re up to. It is not appropriate for you to instigate allergic reactions and eat away at the lining of my stomach and intestines. I don’t mind the nausea, but the rest has to stop. Except for making my knee not hurt. That is quite all right, and I would like you to continue your fine work in that area.

Thank you.

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Air

“No more gin and tonics for you, I need you to be useful tonight,” she said, her eyebrows arching to angry effect.

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Restate as x’ = Bu

My linear algebra test did not go as well as I had hoped. I know that I made some regular algebra mistakes, since one of the matrices that I produced was by definition defective. That meant that parts two and three simply went undone.

Undone.

I think that if I would have had another hour I would have been fine, but I’ve lost my intuition for algebra. I’m just not fast like I used to be.

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800mg

800 mg of ibuprofen sounds like a lot of painkiller. Multiply it by three and you have the amount of knee-deadening I have been doing each day this week.

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I WILL EAT YOUR BRAINS

With apologies to Aphex Twin.

The zombie pub crawl this year is on September 9th, 2006. I expect you to be there in full zombie drag. If you can’t get your own makeup together, have a voodoo priestess actually kill you and raise you from the dead again. I did, and I feel great.

Warning: do not let the fake blood touch anything that you cannot steam clean. Gross.

zombiepub2finalWEB

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Speaking of Getting a Scratch

jm_d30_3727201_RJ.JPG

The doctor says that I can’t ride my bike for at least two weeks. Starting two days ago.

Ow. Ow. Ow. I think it’s time to take an 800mg ibuprofen tablet. Ow. Ow. Ow.

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Just Cut It Off, Already

Yesterday my knee hurt. I woke up this morning at 6am or so with my knee so cramped up that I couldn’t move it. I hobbled to the bathroom and back, trying to be quiet, but when I crawled into bed again it was all I could do to not gouge out my own eyes just to take my mind off of my knee. Of course I couldn’t be quiet enough, but instead of waking up and killing me for waking her up, Cake Woman got me an ice pack. This morning she made me coffee and a breakfast burrito.

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Lube, Oil, Filter

I took the afternoon off to pick up the plates for my car at the dealership and have them change the oil. In the future I will be scheduling such excursions outside of working hours, but I figured that 13 days was plenty of days to drive with an expired 21 day pass. If you’re thinking that I have become a heathen who revels in frivolous oil consumption, (perhaps because of some grumpy tirades I may have posted in response to the bicycle community’s fetishistic affair with their own two wheels) you might be right. I am gleeful in having a stereo to pass the time of my commute.

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