--a full out war. I've laid and baited the glue traps, covered the stove with bowls so that Paul Wolfowitz cannot crawl through the gas vents, and used Marty Feldstein's "Principles of Economics" to block the avenues that Paul Wolfowitz scurries along. (The best use of that book, besides that one time we ran out of toilet paper...)
Anyway, if any Paul Ws are caught, I will duly kill them with a swift but merciful snapping of the neck. They will go the way of the other rodents. I feel maniacal writing it but I still know that it's better than to leave them squeaking and gasping sad deaths of dehydration and asphyxiation.
In other news, school perked up briefly. Don't get me wrong--the work has always been interesting and I'm luxuriating in student lifestyle, it's just that I feel like a three-headed alien with no feet, fifty cumbersome hands, and halitosis when I spend time around law students. So today there was some muted talk of mutiny, or at least squeaking wheels getting grease. I realized that my alienation, mild though it has managed to remain, is shared by other people. And these people are nice people, and they seem not to be buying into that whole horrible acculturation/assimilation that happens to law students--why is it that so many law students are risk-adverse middle-of-the-roaders who are worried about sending the right message and covering their asses? When I learned that the biggest protest of the year is carefully marketed and branded and messaged by the administration--what the fuck, Outlaw?
Anyway, less polemic, more pole dancing. Sorry for the Righteousness.
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