I am up to my ears in essays and

If I have to listen to Vampire Weekend's Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa one more time I think I might stab myself in the ear just to make it go away.

In the meantime I will continue to find a way to wrangle this quote into my essay - not because I agree with the sentiment, but because the image makes me giggle:

"And if a Westerner so much as references Africa, the rotting tweed-tattered corpse of Edward Said will punch through his grave and eat them" (from an article in The Economist's More Intelligent Life magazine).

It is done.

53 pages on gender, physical geography fieldwork and why women can like getting muddy too. I'm fucking shattered, I want to print another copy just to set it on fire, and I have absolutely no desire to ever see it again. Until I get the grades back and think about publishing the fucker properly.