At some point, you realize that the Internet's promise of instant access to any fact can be rather annoying, since you feel obligated to find out the answers to the most banal or useless question. How often do manatees ovulate? Which unsung industrial designer invented the Pez dispenser? Or, that one nagging question, what was I thinking? I hate to plug that one into Google for fear it'll tell me.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: where does he come up with this stuff?
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I can’t imagine what my brain would feel like if I’d gone to grad school, spent half my time trying to screw small wet chunks of literature into the ears of undergrads and the other half researching some misbegotten thesis whose impenetrability was matched only by its utter uselessness in the world beyond.
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