Six Degrees of Smoke On This Sunday Morning

I woke up and wandered recklessly into the dark realm of post-grad education wearing nothing but my underwear and a batting helmet...and I sliced and diced my way through two assignments and then wheeled a karate chop followed by a deathly accurate roundhouse kick to the midsection of my final...all the while screaming, "Heeeyaaaah!" Thumbs tucked into the waistband of my excessively large Ralph Lauren Outlet sleeping boxers, I proudly walked the creaking hardwood of my rental home with an air of confidence bordering on arrogance afterward. It's not every day that you wake up, slay six or seven dragons, and only then consider showering. I haven't even eaten yet. Despite what Mick Jaggar says, sometimes you can get exactly what you want when you want it.

I did today. Consider it a victory for all of humankind.

Now go enjoy your day while I wait for Sunday Night Baseball to ease me out of this impressively good humored assassin's mood. I wouldn't get too close to my hands or feet between now and then...or my lucid and dangerously limber mind. As of 11:20 this morning I am a deadly force to be reckoned with.

Now I'll grab a coffee, a mild one perhaps, and go get my daughter. Don't mess with the bull Mr. Professor man...you just might get a random You, Me, and Dupree, movie reference and an even more random blog post, that is, in addition to the PERFECT score on my exam.

Heeeeyaaaah! Child's play...child's play.