We've hashed out our colleagues every which way 'til Sunday but I don't remember talking about their wives. Sorry, I mean spouses. Maybe I'm talking about people that may or may not eat dogs as part of their culture or maybe they eat dogs just for the hell of it. I mean, what the fuck - they'd fit on a grill, right? I don't have a problem with that. Frankly, if you can follow along with me, then please lead the way. I'm into my second 12 pack at this point.
[UPDATE: Thank you Sawyer for clarifying this for everybody. See his comment below.]
Anywho. The spouses of colleagues. I just spent the evening with a dummy who blamed the 49ers' comeback on the lights going out in the Superdome. Not the normal, "it changed the momentum of the game" analysis. I mean a full blown black helicopter conspiracy.
I can deal with stupid people. Hell, that's my job. It's putting up with smart people who marry dumb people that really throws me for a loop. I feel like wandering into his office next week and saying, "Hey, congratulations on that NSF award. That's going to be some ground-breaking research. Do you mind not bringing that drunk buffoon who shares your last name to my party next time?"
Sorry about the graphic. I'm expressing how I feel, which is kind of pixelated right now.