* * * Hanging Out With a Bunch of Grad Students * * *
Of course, the first thing we'd do is go to the bar
The bartender says "My bar is your bar - help yourself!" -- you mix up:
7 parts Top-Shelf Moxie, 3 parts Prozac...
She whispers, "Make sure to grab yourself a "I Tamed The RamRod" Digital Watch!!"
Then we'd start talking about what we were doing. They would
say things like:
My company is working on a project called:
Proprietary Masked Coefficients of a M. Jagger-Oscillator Chess-playing Artifical Intellgence First-Aid Kit Critical Algorithm
at least until old
Humps-Fifty-Five-year-old-Women
would walk in. And then we would all say
Thou mammering dread-bolted foot-licker
and by that time, either one of us would pass out shortly after mumbling
I HAVE NO FREAKING RECOLLECTION WHAT THE FUCK I AM DOING HERE
or we'd end up telling bad jokes like:
Three transistors walk into a bar. The first one days, "Can I have a drink?"