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jruit :: 17 |
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You can write literature, actually, if you reread The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, who was supposed to have been an alcoholic, but that's an insult. Same goes for my father, who went to Harvard. I wasn't allowed to go to Harvard, because my mom hated him so much. So I went to Dartmouth. For some reason, I got hold of three master keys to that College and found they'd open any door whatsoever on the entire campus, except for some new inner offices in the chemistry building. Not that master keys did you any good. You see the inside of a professor's office or not, it didn't much matter. You knew what you knew. |
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