Sunday, 18 September 2005

Master of Poo!

Well, I have started the Masters Program at Memorial University in Folklore, and I have experienced a week of pure hell! What an insane change. Masters does not appear to raise you one step in the academic ladder, but rather ten or twenty... Although, this could be because I am the laziest student in creation. Methinks my poor work habits will no longer flyeth in thine kingdom of upper academia...poo-eth.

Classes are quite wonderful, but it's been a bit hard to acclimate myself to the reading situation. I have rather poor levels of concentration (hence my sporadic entries...) and it's like pulling teeth to read through my articles and books. I'm sure I'll get used to it, but eeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

It's starting to get chilly here, and while I absolutely love autumn in St. John's, I am dreading another winter here. Yes boys and girls, another cheery season of shoveling (does that have 2 L's??) snow, slipping down hills, "James Browning" aka "Ham Stringing" in slippery halls, bundling up like a mummy to get to school and then roasting like suckling pig all day in your hot sweater. Good times never ending for months...Yeah.

I'm hoping to head home for Christmas break and see the "birth" parents and "brother" for a few weeks. Yes, yes, friends. I will try to see you too. Or at least wave at you from my speeding limousine. I know the sight of my buttery little arm, delicate hand waving to and fro, will probably keep you going for months. However, I have to survive the semester first.

And this, my wonderful freund und freundin, may be the semester that I pop my own eyeballs out with a teaspoon and then stumble blindly into the harbour. I'll float out to sea, aided by a rogue humpback who will keep me on an ice flow in the north feeding me tuna and using its blow hole to keep me dry and warm (-re: the scene in King Kong when the giant ape blows Lana Turner dry...). Come the spring I will float majestically back to St. John's on a giant iceberg, and after a tearful goodbye to my whale I will stumble back onto shore and into the arms of a brilliant eyeball-replacement surgeon. Hmmm, this could be a good semester after all.

Alright, back to work. This nose ain't gonna grind itself!

The slightly less intrepid than usual Venus Fangs.

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