Prison Fucking

My wife is a badass. She is 36 Weeks preggers, and finishing up her degree. With that said, in her situation, she's getting fucked. Her boss is a fucking idiot, and trying to get out from her. Her committee is gridlocked, with one person supporting my wife's work, my wife's boss wanting shit done that doesn't matter, and two members that don't give two shits. As a result, my wife is being forced to get a Master's degree and graduate. Bear in mind that the university has a Concurrent Master's program that would literally let me wife get her Master's degree, and stay in the PhD program. Considering she only needs one more chapter for her dissertation, that's shitty. It made for a fuck-tonne of work for my wife, the graduate school, the department, everyone.

And why did I call my wife's boss a fucking idiot? The person works in water resources and didn't know that attenuation meant a reduction. Percent attenuation literally means percent removed or reduced. Now, I understand if someone outside of water resources doesn't understand. But for someone who has a background in treating water for pollution, you need to know the goddamn word. Even if she didn't, my wife's name is not Merriam goddamn Webster. It literally took me two seconds, just now, to Google the word "attenuation". Why did I Google it? To make sure there weren't ten different meanings. Guess what? There aren't. There are two. And the second definition? Literally a reduction in amplitude of signal, current, or oscillation. The second definition was just a more specific use of the first definition.

And to make things harder, my wife has to deal with this bullshit while 9-months preggers. Do you have any idea how hard it is to run around, filling out papers and delivering them on campus, when you are in Week 36? I don't either. But if it is half as hard as it is for my wife to get in and out of bed, it's gotta be a tremendous pain in the ass. Seriously, she looks like a turtle. She even said as much. She also equated herself to being a hippo. I told her that if she's a hippo, then she is the sexiest fucking hippo in the world. That's right, I know the right answer to that trap.

But I digress. The other night, my wife was in despair. She was dealing with the shit her committee had, she was having roller-coaster mood swings, and to top it off, it was fucking Valentine's Day. Nothing says "love" like filling out a transcript approval form. Let me tell you. Finally, after hearing her mope and wallow, we had a pep talk. Now that makes me sound like a dick. Keep in mind that I was working my ass off to shift her focus toward a bigger and brighter future. I wasn't blowing smoke either. Her future is fucking great. But finally, we had a talk.

And how did I manage to snap her out of her funk? I gave it to her straight. Warning: vivid and explicit imagery. Hide your inner child.

I told her that she is getting fucked. I got fucked in my degree, and her situation was far worse. In the world of fucking, this was a prison fucking. And her roommate is a big-ass motherfucker named "Tiny". And Tiny was fucking her. At this point, my wife interjected, "in the butthole". And I said "exactly". There isn't even a courtesy reach-around. In fact, Tiny is fucking her every goddamn day. In the butt. No lubricant. You know what Tiny uses for lubricant? Spit. And what makes it worse? It's a dry spit. It's a dry spit, after he has started dipping tobacco. That's right, she was getting dip fucked. That's just fucking unpleasant. In fact, it is so unpleasant, that I think that will be my new insult for people. This program was taking her to prison, and serving cock sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And yes, much of this was borrowed from Boondock Saints: All Saints Day.

Fortunately for me, I gave this rant as Big Papa Z and my wife started laughing her ass off. We then had a real talk about what her dreams were, how she would achieve them, and the fact that getting a Master's would likely do more for her than a PhD. Yes, PhD's have the title of "Doctor". But let's be real here, nobody is asking someone with a PhD in engineering or literature to help someone having a heart attack.

"Is there a doctor in the house?"
"I'm a doctor."
"What should we do?"
"Call 9-1-1. Duh."

While I believe that the PhD degree and title used to mean something in the past, the value has become trite. Modern science is driven by money, not by mystery. PhD projects follow the funding, not the actual scientific need. If, on the off chance you get a good project, you still need a good adviser. And by that, I mean an adviser who will put forth the effort to actually support, encourage, and empower the student. Fortunately, my wife has heard this same complaint and rant from several others - including one of her committee members. She has also recognized where her Master's will be far more useful than a PhD, when working in engineering.

Moral of the Story: While my wife may be in metaphorical prison, Tiny is about to get shanked. Also, she is the most beautiful hippo/turtle I have ever seen.