We finally arrived! This is a dream come true for me. I'm with a team of amazing scientists in Antarctica, ready to do some truly important research on global warming. I can remember back to my first day in college, when the world seemed so big and overwhelming. I knew I'd find my place eventually. Here I am, at the bottom of the world. But you know what? I feel on top of the world.
I have to thank my esteemed mentor, Professor Heckles, without whom none of this would be possible. It's thanks to him that my discipline is finally participating in the biggest adventure of all: saving the planet.
I'm still setting in after the long journey here, unpacking all my equipment and supplies. I had to make some sacrifices and leave some of my gear behind due to space considerations, but I guess that's pretty common for these sorts of expeditions.
Haven't had much chance to socialize with the other scientists here yet. Had the occasion to squirt Dr. Mandelbrot in the face with the ol' fake flower gag. She seemed pretty amused. Beautiful woman. Gorgeous bosoms, from what I can tell.
It's day 3 and already I'm starting to regret signing up for this. The men (and woman) of this scientific expedition have no respect for me. Worse, they have no sense of humor. They are questioning my importance on this mission.
Well, first of all, I went to school same as them. Accredited school, no less. I graduated top of my class (class clown). I may not be a scientist in the exact sense, but I understand the science of the human heart, and that's worth its weight in gold.
I take back what I said about Dr. Mandelbrot. Well, except for the part about her bosoms. She was pounding on the lavatory door screaming like a mad woman.
"You've been in there an hour! What the hell could you be doing in there?"
What do you think, lady? I'm putting on my goddamn makeup. If you were half as smart as you claim you would have figured it out. Do you think I'm naturally pale and with a bright red nose? Suddenly I'm the smartest man in Antarctica.
Getting back to business, I couldn't help but notice Randolph looked a bit down in the dumps. Guess his research hasn't been going as well. Rolling out a classic gag: my old friend the whoopee cushion. I'm gonna make that son of a gun laugh.
Today Dr. Bradley said I needed to stay away from him, that I was hindering important research into global warming. Well, fuck you, Bradley, because that's why I'm here too. I don't need you questioning my methods.
Followed Dr. Sternhard out to help him with some field research. What are we going to do today out here in the freezing cold, Sternhard?
"We're going to dig about six feet down and collect samples of snow that hasn't yet turned to ice."
Wow, so we're standing in the freezing cold on a giant pile of snow on top of mile-thick ice and you want to get snow from the bottom? Good luck with that.
Went back inside and had some hot chocolate and listened to some circus music to soothe my nerves.
Spent the morning making balloon animals. Peterson yelled at me, saying I was making too much noise and driving him insane. He actually had the audacity to suggest I go outside to make balloon animals.
Hello, Mr. Scientist, making balloon animals in subzero temperatures isn't going to work at all. Once again: me, the smartest man in Antarctica? Sure seems that way.
Later when I presented them to my peers they looked at me like I'm some sort of idiot. I'd like to see any one of them delicately fold balloons into animals. I have a gift here. The only thing colder than the temperatures out there are the hearts of the people in here.
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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