Nine Times? No, Nine assignments due
tomorrow. Nine written assignments. That black hole I was speaking of last week
is nipping at my backside whilst my cosmic dust is becoming once again part of
the universe.
I know our
rough drafts are due tomorrow as well. How frightening, don't you think? That
date is always a little obscure until it suddenly appears and rears its ugly
head. I will finish my measurements this week and complete my data tables and
by next week, we should be working with something.
Of course in
the meantime I have to get the scratched up plastic container out of the cupboard which
houses my scissors, glue, tape, two rubber bands, a dead cricket, eraser, and a bobby pin. Only true S-Stem scholars can use all of these supplies to meld their
paper together. For tomorrow’s version, I will just have to use
Band-Aids.
I will save the pictures for next time
but I think we might be on to something with this whole nitrogen fixating
rhizobium/feed the world scheme we sought to complete at the beginning of my
last semester at Phoenix College. Longest Degree Ever.
How many fragment sentences have I
employed in the above rhetoric?
Okay, give up? Nine Times? Most of you weren't born. I was eating paste and still wetting the bed. Great movie out of Chi-Town!
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