First, let me just say that I am a stone-cold FOX today, ladies. It's rare, but it does happen occasionally and, when it does, I'm not afraid to declare it. As my and Jenny's friend "Funky Cold Mawiah" used to say, "I look cute today." My hair defies description, it looks so fabulous... people in the coffee shop were staring after I walked in, and I know it was because of this hair. If I weren't in a terribly public place I would SO photobooth my picture right now and post it. *SIGH*
But this post isn't meant to be drenched in vanity. When I said "ass... flaming," it wasn't because I'm smokin' hot (though, I have to say....).
There's that expression, "Lit a fire under my/his/her ass." Last Thursday, when Moonracer presented my Magic Bottle and said he wanted to have a dissertation he could brag about and that mine would be a "quite distinguished one," THAT was lighting a fire under my ass. Yesterday, he skipped ahead and actually lit my ass ON FIRE... when he said he was actually contacting the Grand Poobah so they can SET the date for my dissertation Defense. Today he said it will be no later than April 30th.
He also said that, if I fail to finish on time, he will ship me off to Central Asia. Exile. The place he thinks I will be farthest from communication with the outside world. My dad's response to this? "You'd better hope he does that before we have the opportunity to shoot you."
Where's the nearest burn unit?
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3 comments:
That my dear is pretty cool. I think there will be no burn out until the scotch is gone. But by then you and the Larry will be both done and we can throw the tom, tom, tom, tim, tim, paul, paul, et. al. party.
I know this isn't my private joke, but can I invite Joe? And the other Joes?
please invite the joes, and I will invite the daves I know.
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