Boing Boing and suchlike are presenting this as symptomatic of a wider problem of misogyny in science, when it strikes me more of a wider problem of misogyny among halfwitted douchebags.
A clue for baldy: Most "super model types" are busily at work in the exciting new field of super modeling. And they ain't "super modeling" some loser's brainpan, either.
This fuck teaches psychiatry? I'll stay depressed, thanks anyway.
Let the record show that I met the Frau Doktorin -- whose appearance is irrelevant because I love her at a deep timeless psychic level, but PHWOAR -- through the field of neuropharmacology.
I entered Meeting Room 12A and bulled my way through the crowd to the handouts table. I took them all, turned around, and held them out one by one to the weaklings who followed me, grasping the sheafs of paper so each of them KNEW I was PERMITTING them to have it.
14 comments:
Boing Boing and suchlike are presenting this as symptomatic of a wider problem of misogyny in science, when it strikes me more of a wider problem of misogyny among halfwitted douchebags.
omg, I'm going to TROOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL him.
He seems like he'll be an easy mark.
It's camouflage because no one is interested in studying a brain that ugly.
It's the old "Fool-the-zombies-with-a-cauliflower" trick.
And it WORKS.
Well, duh.
All the Supermodel astronomers and High Energy Physicists and Materials scientists are laughing their perky little ASSES off...
No offense to anyone..
..oh, well, that's all right then
A clue for baldy: Most "super model types" are busily at work in the exciting new field of super modeling. And they ain't "super modeling" some loser's brainpan, either.
This fuck teaches psychiatry? I'll stay depressed, thanks anyway.
Let the record show that I met the Frau Doktorin -- whose appearance is irrelevant because I love her at a deep timeless psychic level, but PHWOAR -- through the field of neuropharmacology.
Good luck Prof. Maestripieri.
Dear Journal of Evolutionary Psychiatry, you'll never believe what happened to me...
~
I entered Meeting Room 12A and bulled my way through the crowd to the handouts table. I took them all, turned around, and held them out one by one to the weaklings who followed me, grasping the sheafs of paper so each of them KNEW I was PERMITTING them to have it.
Painting my buttocks blue did not further my academic promotion as much as I had expected.
Painting my buttocks blue...
viz?
...woad
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