Dear Abbe,
We have this very rakish fellow in the Ecology Department who keeps talking about his exploits in the wild. We think we are just as manly, but somehow our stories don't seem nearly so death-defying. What could we do to appear more extraordinary?
Hellions in Hillsboro
Dear Hellion,
Ah, this reminds me of my youth with the Teutonic Knights preparing for the Schlacht bei Tannenberg and hearing their hair-raising cries. Later, inspired, we would sit in front of our microtomes and bellow our own fierce battle cries. This was appropriate, since most of my colleagues exhibited a fury befitting a warrior reddened in administrative battles with a Dean. The Lab is a dangerous environment, strewn with glass knives, radioactive bottles, sharp tweezers, and vicious paper cuts. We are a hardy bunch and always look for ways to make our dangerous jobs even more adventurous. Take, in point, a colleague in Texas whom I'll refer to as Josephine. She would become so irritated with her LKB glass knife maker that she would resort to clamping her Bowie knife to the microtome (she always kept it hairsplitting sharp) and pull off 5 mm thick sections with ease. Or my first Liebhaber, Gertrud Bonemarrow, who could break glass with her menacing glare. It makes me shiver just thinking about it. So, raise your drinking beakers, beat on the breakroom table, and tell your tales with gusto!
It's a jungle out there! Don't get stranded on the side of Conundrum Highway without advice from Herr Abbe! Contact him before it's too late at johnshields59@gmail.com.
