1) It turns out that many Ph.D.s are idiots. It’s true! People who know idiots undoubtedly know a couple of people with doctorates. People who spend their days interacting with non-medical professionals who call themselves doctor undoubtedly have days peppered with idiot-interactions. Test this theory! Take a random sample of five idiots. At least one of them has successfully defended a dissertation. Now take a random sample of five people who have successfully defended a dissertation. At least one of them is an idiot. See? Idiots and doctorates go hand in hand, just like train station parking lots and anal sex. Or trains! Wait. A Brain Scientist is now sirening something about logical fallacies and me and commitment or committees or committed or something like that. Really? I see. It seems I am guilty of a logical fallacy with my Ph.D./idiot reasoning. Of course I am! I almost have a doctorate. Quod erat demonstrandum.
2) Even seasoned mothers with twelve years of formal experience with multiple womb fruit can inadvertently fling the entire contents of a diaper right onto the carpet and then not notice it until the baby is merrily squishing shit between his fingers. Now I have to revise my resumé.
3) I have an exercise plan I’d like to pursue, and it involves the person standing outside of H and R Block in the cartoony statue of liberty costume. If I paid that person $15, perhaps he or she would let me wear the costume for an hour and dance around with the Tax Credit! sign. I could bring my discman and listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees and get all hot and sweaty inside the foamy lady liberty (
4) Hey! I wrote foamy lady up there. I already disappoint many a poor, wanton sap who happens by after googling lovely labia or potsie cock. Now I can disappoint a whole new segment of the population. Or what I suspect is a whole new segment. I imagine the overlap in that Venn diagram is relatively small.
5) It turns out POTSIE COCK! is a very satisfying thing to yell when you realize your child has a handful of shit. It works nicely in non-fecal-fist instances too, but research thus far suggests that one’s potsie cock pleasure is maximized when one has just experienced profound failure as a parent. I imagine Marion Cunningham would say the same thing.