meet paris's publicist.

no, don't adjust your monitor. he is wearing a pink tie.

(i had a really long debate as to the exact comment i wanted to make, but a thousand words, blah blah blah)

if you love weed(s), you'll love crystal meth.

and by crystal meth, i mean breaking bad:


i knew i would like it when i found myself nodding when walt scoffed re: heating a meth solution in a volumetric flask instead of a round bottom boiling flask.

oh wow. that last sentence, ladies and gentlemen, is the product of being a hardcore science geek in college while trying to compensate and remain hip/with-it by watching copious amounts of tv.

(btw it's on sundays at 10p on amc, plus you can catch up on the first two epis here)

yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

what a GREAT week:

• duke wins
• fabrication of individual strategic modeling assignments complete
  
• sunny spring-like weather dominates, enabling me to watch tv with the door open
  
• potential end in sight for the writers' strike - prayer does work!
  
• american gladiators + the soup = best tv clip of the week
  

what can i say. simple minds.

a genuine conversation, part drei.

(in line at subway, where m orders the oxymoron of condiments... light mayo)

c: so... light mayo, eh?
m: i'm dieting.
c: seriously? [he's 74 inches tall and probably weighs like 168 lbs.]
m: yeah, my pants don't fit right anymore.
c: what does that mean?
m: they're kind of tight. in like the thighs and the butt.
c: what, are you a girl now? have you been gaining weight in the boobs too so that your button-downs gap at the chest?
m: maybe. i do feel a little busty.

guess he's worried about fitting into his emo jeans and penguin polos, a la seth cohen:

like i said, indie yuppie.

a highly academic BURN.

in one of my classes, every thursday, the prof shares some recent research he's done on innovation. one of his slides today basically indicated he "discovered" that teams who have members across multiple time zones exhibit diminished productivity due to coordination issues.

i know. you're on the edge of your seat, it's that thrilling.

anyway, a student raises his hand and pretty much says, "isn't that really obvious?" followed by "do you really need a statistical test to tell you that? because it seems really obvious."

this, as you might imagine, totally puts the prof on the defensive since i think trashtalking his research is akin to slapping his puppy dog after kicking it in the nuts.

so then the prof, after asking a series of unrelenting rhetorical questions and causing a serious (read: overwhelming) awkwardness to befall the classroom, turns to the kid and says:

IT'S SO EASY TO BE AN ARMCHAIR STATISTICIAN.

i didn't have the balls to yell out zzzzzing like the situation totally called for, but the entire classroom just lost it.

it was SO awesome. BURN.

m's new housework-dodging tactic.

i imagine me yelling out asking where he's run off to now instead of cleaning and him, emboldened by his camouflage, responding, "i'm not your bitch, bitch!"

i confess i am a bit of frontrunner.

in the nineties, my favorite teams were:

• the chicago bulls (hey i grew up there... in the eighties) and
  
• the ny yankees (hey i grew up there... in new jersey)

but for the first time, i can actually call an awesome frontrunning team my very own.

GO DUKE GO DUKE GO DUKE GO DUKE

i think this is what they would have looked like if we all lived in the renaissance. and basketball and varsity jackets had already been invented.

(sorry penn, winning the ivies just isn't the same)