My favorite flavor of ice-cream is irony chocolate chip.
The really craphouse Tempest paper I concluded a few days ago at three a.m. while crying over my dad is being photocopied and given to the class as an example of how their papers should have been written. It's like the universe is trying to balance my recent bad news by artificially inflating my grades. I feel ridiculous. Of course my history exam and paper haven't been returned yet, so this theory of mine is likely to fall flat shortly.