PhDick

What this blog may not tell you about me is that I am, in reality, an intellectually accomplished individual, and I can both read and write above a fourth-grade level. I am also taking a graduate level course at the moment. I’ve been here before, so this is no incredible feat–I’m the Buzz-Fucking-Lightyear of higher education–and no I’m not getting a PhD because I enjoy making money. Lots of money. I would also note that attending graduate school doesn’t necessarily require fourth-grade writing or reading comprehension, but anyway, this particular class I’m taking is an empirical research methods course. I know–I like to live dangerously. Like to, but don’t.

I’m not particularly taking to the course content, nor do I anticipate I will at any point between now and the course ending, which is soon, but I have been weighing the benefits of presenting my instructor with the following research hypothesis for my final project: If, after the first class in an average graduate-level course, an individual student is unable to determine who the class asshole is, is it him? This is actually a trick question because I do not need any evidence, it is as obvious as gravity and sluts. Speaking of sluts, the class asshole can be a female, although the affliction presents itself more often in males. Specifically, males pursing PhDs who babble on for hours at a time, not realizing they are in the presence of someone who is currently making more money than they will and could ever dream. That’s me, by the way. Suck it you PhuckingDick.

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