…I think I’ll write up a bunch of crap. While I’m eating a handful of those delicious little gummie Coke bottle candies with the sourpatch coating.

also, I just invented “Steve’s List of Forbidden Things He Cannot Do While I’m Finishing My Grad Program.” Perhaps you could send him notes or leave comments on his blog, reminding him to back off, honk honk? Thanks, I appreciate that.

They include, but sadly for him are not limited to, the following:

1) let the printer run out of ink
2) imitate his former boss’s voice (by former, i mean 15 years ago. why does this man’s voice continue to haunt us? “Is Steve there?” Now imagine teeny-tiny voice, making the words clipped, “Yes. He is. Would you. Like to. Talk to him?”) (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.)
3) Mention Juice Newton, or any other performer I hate. Because of this is why: My only mad skill in the world is I remember every lyric to cussin’ every song (almost) that I hear. So when you say, Juice Newton! to me, I will get “Queen of Hearts” stuck in my head. If you yell, Blue Oyster Cult! at me, I will get “Don’t Fear the Reaper” on auto-repeat. Then I will have to sing it out loud to rid myself of it. It’s like song exorcisms, it’s cussin’ horrible, okay??? But we all have our crosses to bear. I actually like Blue Oyster Cult, but not for four days running, aight?
4) avoid the cat litter. He must deal with the cat litter more than I do. (i can deal with it fifty percent of the time, but no more. NO MORE.)

the end.

oh p.s. — Jew Among You is all freaking out on us, and you know we live for cuss like this.

no, I mean it, the end.