*Sigh*

Beer = Good.

Day = Long.

Dickie = Hungry.

Chicago = Cold.

Grad school = Hard.


Editor's note: You might have noticed, from the last couple of posts, that Dickie doesn't exactly seem to possess the same expressive, scatalogical output as he did immediately before beginning his grad program. We are currently investigating into whether or not there is a correlation to be made. In the meantime, please accept our apologies and make do with his, um, "more direct" (?) entries. As long as his language does not devolve into a series of grunts, or stays above the first grade level, we technically have no grounds to pursue a complaint. Dickie directly stipulated this in his contract. Warm regards.