Ohhh, bugger

Since I've started this wretchard exercise (re: blogging) I've written 39,323 words in blog. Which is the equivalent to a Masters thesis. I'd like to point out that I have written more than that on my real thesis. But I haven't finished my thesis. This taunts me at night/day/whatever time zone I happen to be inhabiting at said time of taunting like food I purchased from a vending machine that refuses to drop from the shelf and instead hangs in mid air, suspended by a piece of plastic I may or may not want to destroy but am powerless to do so if I so desire because of plastic/glass that separates us, and the norms that society has placed on my fragile alpha-male identity.

Who thought I could babble in a blog? Don't answer that.

Incidentally, Corey is mad.

Apparently Richie McCaw's psychometric tests were better after the knock to the head he suffered last Saturday than they were when he took them while injury free.

Conclusion: rugby makes you smart.

I'm happy and angry.