She has her bum up on the back of the couch. She’s chewing a toy. I DON’T KNOW.
UPDATE: She is now lying on the floor and just hit Sofia across the face with her toy.
"Just as there’s a time to every purpose under heaven, there are times to swear and times not to, and for the studio to embrace the idea that some magical transformation from adult-oriented to family-friendly takes place because you park your finger on the mute button for 45 seconds is profoundly unsettling."
Linda Holmes, NPR Monkey See Blog
What? First you don’t disburse my loan for this semester on time, then you take back $3,733 in loans that I was given last semester? Oh hell no. This better be a glitch, ‘cause I’mma tell y’all right now: no one screws with me and gets away with it. I have a filing box filled with loan paperwork going back to 2005 for exactly this reason.
I ain’t slept more than four hours in a few days and am running entirely on Coke and bitchiness right now. Bad timing, Enrollment Services and/or glitchy computer system. Very bad timing.
This doesn’t include supplemental readings, research, or the four books I managed to read for fun before my brain leaked out of my ear. Do not mistake this list for boasting; if anything, I am boasting that I am still alive and a semi-functioning human being after reading all of this, much of it simultaneously. I would be more proud of myself if I’d done this much reading without being forced. I am merely attempting to disprove the notion that humanities majors are easy. Dear sir: no.
My plan for when I finish the semester — my final two papers are due on the 21st — is to bake like crazy for the holidays, then sit down and read the 700-page Pulitzer Prize-winning tome, American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Now that’s reading. That’s a vacation.
Legrand’s opening to “‘Round Midnight” was a complete red herring, Evans’s tinsel-bedecked arpeggios (rendered as if in white tie and tails) defying any notion that Miles was about to enter playing Monk. John Lewis’s “Django” boosted the Gallic content of this transatlantic potpourri, Bill accompanying Miles with semistaccato droplets in deference to its composer’s piano style.
Dear sir: No.
Oh, and the whole book is like this, by the way, lest you think I am overreacting.