Just finished grading sixty midterms for my kiddies, a mindless and thankless task. I was too nice, and my averages were higher than they should've been, but I'd be damned if I'm going to look back over those damn exams again. Now it's done, out of my hands and into theirs.
Shannon meets the Job tomorrow, and is taking her frustration out on my through this graph. Solar power is cool and all, but is she trying to make me depressed - just scroll down, you'll get there too. What a jerk she is. At least she'll be a rich jerk, a masters in aeronautical engineering from stanford is apparently impressive on a resume.
We've got more social commentary rap, this time with Sinatra in the background. Killer Mike, you tell it like it is, street style. "We wear our fuckin' pants big because our mothers were too poor to buy our size," Mike levels. "Call it what it is, nigga: It's fucking poverty." True.
MP3: Killer Mike: "That's Life"