...I was in Philadelphia...
...on a conference with no access to a computer, unless I wanted to walk to Kinko's and spend the dough. I love you guys, but please understand: I'm trying to save for a car that isn't a 1992 Geo Prism.
I was surrounded by Latin and Classical Lit/History teachers for days. I would say that the novelty of getting the young newbie male buck Latin teachers drunk and asking them to "Carpe Diem" wore off after a few days, but there is no such thing as a "young newbie male buck Latin teacher". There are a lot of plain chicks who don't drink and giggle nervously if you crack a joke about masturbation and the Greek homo erotic ideal (Socrates choking on hemlock while Sappho tells you to slowly stroke it. Really.).
The upside to the conference was discovering that the people running the show would hold a reception for us with lots of booze in an archaological museum, "Please Don't Touch" sign be damned. There's almost nothing better than watching a bunch of octogenarian professors hobble about in the Egyptian Wing playing "Who's Got The Roofie", while the one 60 year old guy discovered that he could get away with licking Oxy-Contin and Viagra off the funeral mask of a 14 year old dead prince from the Upper Nile. He was clearly feeling no pain from the broken hip due to earlier activities in the Indian wing and the "naughty bodhisattva".
Good times, good times.
I swear I'll post more soon. I'm just trying to drink enough right now to get the memory of the Cunning Linguists of the Class of 1937 (and their donkey, Spartacus) out of my brain cells without using the ice pick.
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