Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday in Manhattan, New York.  Here’s a wonderful list of witticisms that we shant hear ever again.  My fear of finishing all of his works before I die has become eminent.
Today’s Highlight:  If I’m lucky, and the stars were in the right position, I might have gotten a positive grade on my Act Sci 305 exam.  There were letters, I hadn’t even seen before.  To get a B, I now only need a 106% on the final, which is only possible if the instructor has a dormant congenital heart defect that manifests exactly at the point where she’s entering my grade.  On the other hand the day wasn’t all bad.  In IH 0052 my instructor made a number of sexist Freudian comments and defended himself with “you just wish you had a ding-dong” and a dozen other euphemisms for a penis.  The high point was “you’re simply jealous that you lack an organ of such simple perfection that it has brought nations and women to their knees.”  Maybe one day he’ll be fired, until then, he’s the best instructor I’ve ever had.