Chuck Oates
Current mood: distressed
Category: Life
Don't Ask
I won't ask
"what next?"
It now appears
that yet another of our family income
sources is coming to an abrupt end. More
details soon. :^(
Maybe we can
survive on our teaching salaries alone ("honoraria" is the usual term
for such nominal amounts, I believe).
Is the corner of
Western and I-240
available for the afternoon?
Let's see ...
"Will
write embedded systems software for food."
"Will
design hemodialysis machines for daily medications."
"Will design
automated jet engine test systems and mechanized materials handling systems for
Diet Dr. Pepper."
"Will
teach neural network theory for peanuts."
"Will teach
assembler/machine language computer programming for sub-minimum wage"
(already tried that one at OU 30 years ago, thanks just the same)
Vote for your
favorite sandwich-sign slogan from those above--or send one of your own invention! The
winning entry will receive, in addition to my gratitude, a year's supply of
Commons Broccoli (broccoli not quite raw, but not nearly done, either, as only
the Rice Food Service's Central Kitchen can prepare it).
___________________
Maybe we could
find some locusts and invite them over for a small plague! No danger of the Canadian running red,
though; it's been that color for some centuries now. Haven't seen any swarms of frogs, but there
I'm going back to
bed now and pulling the covers up over my head.
Maybe I'd better check the structural integrity of the roof first! :^)
Prof. Oates