Why I Never Take a Break...

I thought I would come back feeling refreshed, but it turns out the sh*t just kept piling up while I was away and now I’ve got to put on some sort of haz-mat suit and try to wade through it.

In a surprising turn of events, it turns out that Brady actually does have a heart and that even it was feeling a certain level of hostility towards her. When she finally listens to it, it says what we all knew all along: Leave. Now.

Fortunately, this isn’t a monarchy and we aren’t thereafter subjected to the rule of her husband whose lack of both a heart and a soul has been confirmed on many separate occasions.

To our former chancellor: I wish you a speedy recovery and a great deal of insight.

Also, goodbye and good riddance.

The search for her replacement continues underground, in a darkened room, with all the lights off, in a closet, under a blanket, using only a secret set of hand signals that, even if somebody could see them, are incomprehensible. Chances are, we will hire a mole, if for nothing else than to give the beleaguered search committee an opportunity to come to the surface for air.

Edna Chun continues to be a non-entity. Standing up for no one at all times in all places. I remember my math teacher telling me that multiplying two negatives make a positive, but I think I have finally found an exception…I would therefore like my tests from high school to be regarded based on this discovery.

Mason continues to engage in his extremely excellent opportunity that was presented only 10 months after UNCG was hit by Hurricane Paul. The opportunity? To sit at home and not be working at UNCG. If only we’d known that was his idea of an advance, we could have arranged it from the start.

The Board of Governors and NC legislature appear to have been taken over by a committee of aliens whose only basis for understanding human behavior has come from repeatedly watching movies such as “Trolls” and “The Beginning of the End.”

Legislation to mandate that professors teach 8 courses a year should soon give way to regulation to teach 24, be subjected to a curfew, and wear a special identifying arm band so that their tainted blood won’t mix freely with the pure.

There’s really only two questions left to be asked:

Where are we going? And, why are we in this hand basket?