Like a train wreck; Morbid fascination

Did J.K. Rowling ever see this coming?

Melts my heart like lard on a skillet

My dog is a prodigious chewer. Anything fluffy with a squeaker will be eviscerated within minutes when given to her. Hence, we have given her a fire-hose toy with a squeaker to chew. It has taken her about two weeks to really puncture the ballistic materical. So what's so adorable about all that?

When she has the tubular toy propped up and wedged in her mouth and bites into it, her eyes close and she relishes it. She looks like a wisened old jazz man in a smoky club.

I'm going to be late to my show!

Chomsky hates me

... or at least he should. Outside of the basic sentence mobile, I don't "get" syntax at all.

This might be the last meeting of my Syntax class this semester. Our prof arranged the class schedule so that we could end class a week early, or go to the end (next week) if we wanted. As class has a narcotic effect on all of us - including those who thrive on the torture that is syntax - I suspect we'll opt to end it tonight. I still have two more papers to turn in. Luckily he'll be accepting those for a few more weeks. However, I don't know if I have any more brain power to drudge something up for two more papers. This week, I thought I had a topic, an arguement. Then last night I sat down to write it, only to discover I didn't.

I can't wait for this class to be over. Just two more papers and I never have to worry about Case Theory or Binding Theory or anything like that again. My brain can stop being the puddle of snot that it has become in the last 16 weeks.