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September 19, 2007
“FART: I have to.”
This comment in direct contrast to the official-looking yellow legal pad on which it was scribbled. My comrade gives me a pensive looks, fakes intellectual curiosity, and searches the lines in my countenance that would give way to a snicker. I have him fooled for point-three seconds, my own serious demeanor mirroring the guest lecturer’s, who was totally oblivious to our back row antics. I break, and have to hide my nose in the collar of my white coat. “Asshole,” I whisper.
The next note: “Beer after this?”
I pause, recalling some prior engagement. “You buying?”