Top Killa

What? Is BP seriously considering turning off its camera? That’s not true right? I’ve been duped by media bias right? C’mon BP! Let me guess, you turn the camera off and perform your “top kill”. Then what? The camera comes back on? To show what? A beautiful digitally enhanced scene of underwater fish love? Mermaids and shiz? Fuck you BP.

Beer Googles

Due largely to my own vanity (and slightly to my ingrained reliance on data collecting) I google myself. I google my real name and profession (e.g., Real Me, realjobologist; R. Me, realjobology) and the blog me (e.g., Acadamnit kicks ass; Acadamnit tweedy love). Real Me is winning the numbers race by a landslide. Real Me and blog me are equally vain, Real Me just conceals it while blog me just revels in the damnity goodness. So there I was with my beer googles on thinking I look mighty fine, mighty fine indeed. Sobriety rudely interrupted this moment as a single email ripped those beer googles off my face. Cool Journal of Myjobology just rejected my manuscript. REJECTED. Motherfucking damnit. Yikes. Fuck. You’d think by now I could handle this news in some reasonable sanity preserving fashion. But no. I’ll just fluctuate between rage and utter dejection for the next 48 hours...and maybe engage in a little therapeutic googling (e.g., Editor of Myjobology Journal sucks ass).

Comings & Goings

Have you ever seen a Kum & Go store? The first time I saw one I cracked the fuck up. Really? Kum & Go? Do I have an unusually dirty mind or is that not a rather risqué name for a convenience store? It brings up all kinds of dirty connotations for me. But then again I’m the kind of person that can still get a good laugh out of Uranus jokes. I prefer the pronunciation “your anus” not that “yura nus” crap I remember high school science teachers using (although I still find it funny that they used “yura nus” due more so to their own embarrassment at saying “anus” rather than any commitment to scientific nomenclature). I can’t help it. Uranus is the funniest planet and Kum & Go is just a damn nasty name for a chain of convenience stores. I bring this up because I’ve been coming and going (to and from places people! for those of you with extremely dirty minds) a lot lately.

I just returned from tropical paradise. I am brown and happy. Well, that’s not entirely true. I am mostly brown, white in some important places and a little red― but happy. I have complained endlessly about my job. But you know, it enables me to have a lot of shit I really love. Tropical vacations for one. I mean I just went on vacation from sabbatical! That’s beautiful. I have no idea who came up with the “academic sabbatical” but it’s fucking brilliant and I like to think whoever that person is they’re a Uranus giggler too. Come to think of it I should probably know the history of academic sabbaticals…but I don’t and I don’t really give a fuck. That person will just remain a mysterious entity bringing happiness much happiness to the world.

Shout Outs

Inside Higher Ed is now inside my head. I wanted to write “inside my higher head” but that could be interpreted a couple of different ways. Although feel free to pick one and there’s a good chance you could be correct. (award yourself 10 blog reading points!) So every once in awhile I, and many of you, get a shout out over in Inside Higher Ed land. This results in flood of people reading a particular post. It’s like Inside Higher Ed sent out invitations to your party- but didn’t tell you. That’s OK. It’s actually rather flattering . It’s like seeing your work cited. Does that not cause a minor, but very real, rush? A little thrill? I should specify that I am referring to the positive/neutral citation, not the negative “what is wrong with this motherfucker?” type of citation. But seeing my name and work like that? It never ceases to amaze me. The Inside Higher Ed shout out is similar.

Similar, but not quite the same. It has the additional component of making one feel a little party-crashed upon. It’s as if Inside Higher Ed compiled a perfectly respectable guest list, sent the invitations, the guests show up, and the party is packed and jovial. But the next morning you wake up and think “who the fuck were those people?” What just happened exactly? Whose underwear are these?