Wug, wug, so school started yesterday, which I thought was going to make me a slap-happy pappy, but only resulted in the formation of a grumpy-chumpy.

As usual, (I should really know better by now) there were readings due the first day that were posted at the last possible minute on the class website. Nothing like that sinking feeling of walking into the den of lions unprepared.

The bus ride home was a thrill, however: a short dumpy woman with long, black (I am not making this up) feathered hair, wearing one of those sateen jackets that usually bears the logo of a tavern on it, and tight, stonewashed jeans chose to heckle me and a school acquaintance for the whole ride home.

I think she was drunk out of her mind at four in the afternoon, and chemically imbalanced besides. She was with a scruffy dude with one of those weirdy leg immobilizers on and a pair of crutches. He was drunkenly trying to “shoosh” her as she yelled at us.

“YOU GIRLS TALK TOO MUCH, DID YOU KNOW THAT?”

She was hello-loud but so was the rest of the bus, so I didn’t realize she was talking to us at first. My friend and I were speaking in a normal tone of voice, and laughing a little.

“BOCK BOCK BOCK! THEY SOUND JUST LIKE CHICKENS, DON’T THEY, ROGER? BOCK BOCK, I NEVER HEARD SO MUCH TALKING IN MY WHOLE LIFE.”

My friend and I glanced at her and went on talking.

“It seems too early to be that drunk, don’t you think?” I asked my friend.

“THEY NEVER SHUT UP, DO THEY, ROGER?”

All the time Roger was going, “Shh, be quiet now, be polite, honey, please?”

At one point she moved over to Roger’s side of the bus and was out of sight. I could hear more murmuring as Roger was talking to her.

“OH ALL RIGHT, ROGER. I’M SORRY! HEY, DO YOU HEAR ME? I’M SORRY.”

I wanted to tell the BI-otch I was sorry she was so crazy, but I don’t know my school friend well enough to stir the pot. My conservative policy nowadays is to not start fistfights in front of possible future networking contacts. Because that’s what people always remember, instead of an awesome presentation. We continued to ignore her.

Finally my stop came. I moved towards the front (“OH GOOD, ROGER, ONE OF THOSE CHICKENS IS GETTING OFF.”) and told my friend to be careful.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I can take her.”

The bus rolled away and the evil BI-otch looked back at me through the window, twisting her face up very unbecomingly. I gave her the two-fisted salute and the last thing I could see before the bus got too far away was her jumping up and down on Roger and flapping her dumpy little arms, trying to claw through the window to get at me.

In Other News:

During Xmas break I discovered the folly of my ways via this article. Why am I wasting my time in a library/info sci masters’ program when I could be learning this stuff on the streets, or whatever this ridiculous asshole is trying to say.

NO. The appellation “asshole” is too good for him. I am the Asshole. He is an infected splinter on a dog’s dick.

Seriously, maybe I am wasting my time. I mean, Advanced Due Date Stamping is hardly any harder than Intro to Due Date Stamping. And the waiting list to get into LIS 546, Bun Variations, is about a mile long. I doubt I’ll get in before I graduate even. Oh well. At least I have Intermediate Patron Shooshing to look forward to next quarter.

If I ever meet this guy in person I will step on his Scrabble bag in kitten heels.

In Other, Other News:

If Mr. Husband ever gets smushed by a random chunk of 747, this is the first place I will go to soothe my pain. I mean, if you don’t want to bathe with Jesus, I can’t help you. (via larisa)