* * * 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?"