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twenty-two long rifle

My boss asked me yesterday when I wanted to schedule a committee meeting, and I said around August, a year from the last one.  No, he said, he wants me to defend then so it has to be earlier, like April.  Yeah.  a year and a half early.  No prob, dude.  Whatever.  I should have gone into the Navy.  What I wouldn't give to go back in time and put my ass on a bus to Paris Island or something, where at least you have some idea what the hell is going on.  Every other grad student I talk to is saying how they're getting the hell out of academia and doing all this semi-scientist stuff, and it always seemed absurd.  Maybe I'm the one who hasn't wised up yet.  I need to look into something outside of it all and see how I can cut through the bullshit nonsense.  Maybe I could find a job in a forensics lab, going to court all the time.  I could probably deal with that nicely.  Probably would never get tickets, either.


I think my dog got pregnant.  I saw a stray dog in my yard when I went outside to check on her.  She must be.  If I find the dog I'm going to put a bullet in its spine, put it in a bag, drive it out to the San Luis Pass and let it think long and hard about some things.  and then I'm going to find the fucker who's feeding it and, if I can find a way to get away with it, break his jaw.  Now I guess I need to find out if I can get an abortion for this dog.

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