My gynecologist should be cloned and distributed world-wide. Get me the WHO's number, dammit!

Seriously, no
other lady-parts doctor
can compare to him.

[And, unfortunately, I have had ample opportunity to comparison 'shop.']

Found Haiku: Minivan Jockey edition

Tamarack, Oakhurst,
Bethel Christian Church. Day Care.
Dry Cleaners. Starched shirts.

Found haiku #2, no explanations needed I think

Raymond peed in the
Potty! What a big boy, he
pee'd in the potty!

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Mastering Abun-
dance...getting what you want by
having God serve you"

The amazon.com review says "You will be able to draw to you: love; money; house; cars; boats; jobs and careers etc... Whatever your heart desires can be yours!"

I only read the review, and damn if it didn't work! Looks like the NHL is gonna play this year. Thanks God! Thanks Nzhinga Moses! Hey...if God serves me, do I have to tip Him? 15 percent or 20?

Just send me to Gitmo why don't you.

Drilling old fillings.
Installing temporary
Crowns of sandpaper.

[Update: it didn't hurt today, even though the dentist spent 2 hours removing most of two molars in preparation for crowns. You rock, Dr. Dentist-Lady from the UP!]

Memo to Katie Holmes: he's crazier than batshit, but I don't have 'scientific' proof.

Lately Ol' Tom Cruise
seems even more jacked, but I've
never liked that guy.

Further memo to Katie: My hypothesis is based on observations of dates in the past. You probably don't want my lab notebook, and you really don't want to replicate my experiments. Just trust me, he is off his nut.

This is my quest: not to have to teach Medieval Art next year. Here's why:

All I know about
the Middle Ages: Monty
Python's Holy Grail.

Thursday afternoon, when you work at home, has drama of its own.

Bird flies into my
office window--closed--bonks beak,
scares me half to death.

[S/he flew up to the tree right outside my window after, like, "yeah, man, cooool, I meant to do that," but I doubt that the other birds were convinced.

Once, while golfing w/my husband, I failed to calculate the height of the golf cart's roof vs. the position of my forehead and knocked myself on my own ass. It was the damn baseball hat's fault. If I hadn't been wearing it I could have seen, and would have BEEN REMINDED that GOLF CARTS HAVE ROOFS. One dork knows another. I can totally see through that bird's act.]

To my family and former students who send me email about Hillary Clinton being 'evil.'

Afraid I'm one of
those damned liberals, so don't
waste your time on me.

[really, how could they not have figured that out already? sheesh....]

Writing a dissertation=hard. Procrastinating=easy.

I need to check my
email twelve times an hour!
And yahoo! headlines!!

American Idol's Simon Cowell has nothing on the academic conference/journal/grant/job rejection letter

Here are my all time favorite (by favorite, I mean the best examples of unintentionally insulting) rejection letters, content distilled into haiku form.

From a recent conference paper submission:

"Many grand ideas
were rejected, but yours was
not among that crowd."

or, from the American Studies Association two years ago:
"Seventy-five of
one hundred were accepted--
great odds--but not you."