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The Rare Occasion That Passive Aggression is Called For

It's like I'm not in a cafe any more, but rather receiving a diplomatic corps from a nation I'm at war with. The woman has a "stern and serious fucking business" look on her face, and another waitress is standing alongside her right flank with arms crossed.

I shake my head and try to wave them off, doing the universal "I'm on the phone" gesture, holding up a thumb and pinky finger.

She starts speaking anyways. She's loud and insistent.

"Hold on, Marcus."

I take my headset off. "Yes?"

Deutschland, Deutschland, über alles

On The Sister and The Mister

So after realizing that I'm most likely not getting into graduate school and spending a bit too much time getting to know the google search bar, I awoke from my panicked downward spiral to see an application to a German university. Now, I was all on board to continue on with the application until I realized that everything was in German. I know two other languages aside from English, and neither of them happen to be the native tongue of Deutchsland.

I'd be happy to be in Germany. I like bratwurst and beer and Heidi Klum and "Das Boot". I'm a HUGE fan of the German national soccer team. (Yeah, I said soccer. I get it, the world says football, quit being such Nazis about it… oh I see what I did there… well… yeah… FIFA '14… win… Hitler would be… ok I'm stopping). On top of that I still have German National Anthem memorized due to some masochistic relationship with my high school choir teacher. She was set on fire and didn't die. Granted it was just the sleeve of her dress, but let it stand that SHE WAS SET ON FIRE AND DID NOT DIE.

Moral of the story: I'm not going to Germany and I've resigned myself to getting super thin and finding a wealthy husband to buy my way into Harvard. That happens right? How else did Bush Jr. do it? Cs may get degrees but they don't get you into Harvard Business School, sir.

Cue sip of wine and sleep.

The Sister

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