Here’s a shocker: …

Here’s a shocker: Friday marks the end of the first half of the last quarter here at the University. That doesn’t mean what it would if it wasn’t what it was.
You think about that.
From Dr. Nick, the Disenfranchised: I hate to tirade this early in the morning, but it gives me something to do between bouts of drinking and I’ve got some things I’d like to get off my chest. Net: Cue “Entertainment Tonight” music — aaaaaaand … READ! Oh, look! Ryan Phillipe and Reese “Whither sponge?” Witherspoon are tying the knot, presumably in her fallopian tubes should Miss Anemia’s package go breech. Ms. Witherspoon’s press corps say the knocked-up actress is confident that the pregnancy will not hurt her career, merely slow it down a few months.
Reese, hon, YOU’RE FITTING AN ENTIRE HUMAN BEING INTO YOUR BODY! Not just a tiny part of one, like when you got into this mess. Stretch marks and those unsightly pounds and inches, like having “Cruel Intentions” on your resume, won’t go away naturally. Get used to living La Vida Orca, sweetheart. Here’s a thought: Do you think she factors morning sickness into her daily purging? Net: Mary Hart has the night off …
And speaking of sickening Hollywood couples, I kind of feel sorry for Ben Affleck getting the Brad Pitt-to-Gwenyth treatment from, of all people, Gwyneth Paltrow. Of course, now that they’ve both got Oscars, it does allay my fear that their kids would be plated in gold and affixed to tiny wooden platforms to add to their collection … Net: Celebrity birthdays … da-da da-da da daaa …
Does anyone else miss Pamela Nebraska Lee’s ample bosom? She says that it’s because she wants people to take her seriously as an actress, but come on. Why do you think guys capitulated so readily when asked to see “Titanic” for the 40 billionth time? Why do you think Kate Winslet was so compelling as Ophelia in Kenneth Branaugh’s Hamlet? It was a B+ performance at best, but there was that secret hope that she’d rend that burlap sack asunder in rage and give the men in the theater something to think about when hoisting with their own petard. Net: Free T-shirt to the first person who can tell us why Dr. Nick’s new moniker should be Mike Binkley.
We’ll miss you, Silicone Valley. Net: And we’ll miss you, Doc; if you fade to black on us … we could use a Hollywood correspondent. Onward.
From The Redheaded Bitch: Network, my friend, my heart is heavy. Not over the really bad haiku printed as of late, but from seeing that the world has lost all sense of PROPORTION. Net: Not another Pamela Lee basher! Just as having 13 beers is very different from having three, so is killing 12 people because the popular ones ignore you! Going to the other extreme, I’m sure someone will try to outlaw black clothes because they are a “disturbing influence.” Net: And hot in direct sun … Sitting on the brink of WWIII, I wonder if anyone will try the novel idea of GETTING ALONG before it’s too late. Net: Try “getting along” with an Obsequian. They’re insufferable, cheeky little braggarts. It’s always, “King T’s gonna do this,” and, “King T’s gonna do that.” It’s obnoxious. Here’s my solution: Go out and find someone your “friends” would frown at you being with, and take them out for a beer. (Good beer, not Busch). If they don’t drink, this step can be substituted with tea or something. Talk to them, find out who they are. It’s a lot harder to kill someone you know. Net: Or be killed by them. Can’t we all just not kill each other?

From Freak I: OK, so it’s Take Your Daughters to Work Day (along with severe weather awareness and Earth Day and Pride Week). Net: And Australian Women’s Soccer Week and Gasoline Day, and National Blister Awareness Month and Khalid El-Amin Bought a Bag from This Guy Roy Week. And others. Since Comstock is the closet dorm on campus, they sent all the youngun’s and their parental guides here. First off, I almost ran screaming when, to my horror, I encountered a large furry rodent kibitzing with the poor children and perverting their minds with thoughts of camaraderie and cheating for athletic purposes. I managed to find a seat near a dear looking child and her father, a Montana woodsman who introduced himself as Ted. I thought these people, as they were sitting in a far corner and being quite silent, would not mind a green-lipped, flyin’, writin’, singin’ weirdo freak eating her meager meal next to them. I asked the young one if she was having fun, the ensuing conversation went thusly:
Me: Are you having fun today?
Girl: Yes.
Me: Are you learning what you want to do when you grow up?
Girl: Uh huh.
Me: What?
Girl: I wanna go to college!
Me: Oh, so what do you like about college?
Girl: The food!

I s##!+ you not, this poor creature has already been poisoned by the evils of the giant rodent! Net: UDS = University Doom Squad. You heard it here first. Her father said nothing but remarked to her that they needed to get going so they could go “see the technology center” that was being displayed for the hopeful young minds. I hope he delivers that package that he was carrying on time.
In other news:
The pest control showed up and has killed off what they described as “Crawling bugs.” Net: Wethinks it was UDS, but actually, they were installing “Listening Devices.” I assume that meant I should have no worries from oh, say slithering bugs? Net: Or “writhing” bugs … ever seen a silverfish? Well, I must be off to either do the laundry I’ve been procrastinating, the homework I’ve been half doing or the novel I’ve been reading in class. I hope you do not run into any horrific situations as I did.