There must be a shortage of assholes in tweed jackets somewhere.

My Sociology instructor ran through the lecture last night like his backside was on fire, dismissed class and was the first one out the door. Hey, sorry we kept you. Here, take my e-mail and just let me know next week if you're feeling the same way and I won't even bother to show up. If I wanted to deal with somebody that's in a shitty mood I have broader horizons than you offer that don't require a fourty mile drive home afterward. Go home and be in a shitty mood with your wife.

I thought that after we'd missed two weeks due to Hurricane Rita and another two weeks with a holiday and a Doctor of Sociology Retreat somewhere out west that he just HAD to attend, it would be smooth sailing. We'd be behind, have to rush to catch up and then he'd decide that there would be no way we could catch up and screw it anyway, just show up for lecture, forget about the last three chapters, and the final is not comprehensive. WRONG.

And this does not by any stretch of the imagination serve as an excuse on my part for the fact that I'm lazy about getting the reading done or that I can procrastinate like nobody's business, cause hey, the day that procrastinating becomes an Olympic sport, I'm going to be team captain. I don't get anything done as soon as I'd like to, therefore I feel like nothin is done as well as I'd like it to be. Even now I've got a book review that's due tomorrow night that I haven't even opened up a new document window for. At least this time I can be grateful that I did infact read the book. Even if it was by flashlight when Hurricane Rita came through and I couldn't watch tv for two days. I've got a film project due tonight in my Communications class that I didn't even bother putting in the dvd for until last night after aforementioned fourty mile drive home, shower, and watching Anderson Cooper getting his "aura" read by some lady who hires hersef out to parties to read auras. You could tell by the look on his face that he was so not buying in. For a second I thought he was gonna go off on her like she was a government functionary in New Orleans after a hurricane.

So this film project, it's a strange one. Pick a movie and find four scenes that demonstrate the following:

Win - Win, Win - Loose, Loose - Loose, Loose - Win.

But you have to challenge the instructor's mind with your choices and be ready to defend your choice of film. No sex, language is ok. (And no, the instructor doesn't have to defend his coming up with this assignment.)

At first I was going to use Pulp Fiction. It has got to be one of my all time favorite movies. But then when I started running through it in my mind, there aren't that many scenes in Pulp Fiction that don't have "fuck" or "nigger" peppered throughout them and while foul language doesn't bother me in the least, there are a couple of very nice older ladies in my class that I would not want to offend. And then I couldn't decide if Uma Thurman's heart shot scene was Win - Loose, or Loose - Win. Altough Ving Rhames definetly lost out in that pawn shop basement scene, talk about taking one for the team. Ewwww.

So, last night in the shower I decided that it was up to the Coen brothers to pull my collective fat out of the fire and went with Fargo. Face facts, some of the characters in that movie could keep a head shrinker busy for years.

Hell, facing facts, so could I.