#larkspurf

“Can you believe him? He didn’t call or send an Iris message or whatever--I mean, who even does that?” She said as she threw a dart towards the balloon mural, popping one and splattering paint everywhere. She had seen this on Princess Diaries once, and figured that it was just what she needed to destress. “I mean, of course, I smothered him with love and affection when we finally found him in his clinic, but after that, I gave him a good talking to. He’s a son of Poseidon for crying out loud! He could have drowned them in water or something. He’s a pretty face but sometimes I just don’t know what goes on in his head, sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing! I don’t know what it is about this university, but the budget cuts have been getting faculty laid off left and right. I have a Masters in Animation, but suddenly I’m supposed to be teaching this sculpting 101 class for the department? I mean, I’ve taken workshops and elective classes for it in the past, but that doesn’t mean I want to teach it?” She said, exasperated as she stared at a three-foot tall, macaroni bust sculpture of Whoopi Goldberg. She found that she just couldn’t look away. “I suppose it was my fault for telling that that they could use any medium that they thought would best exhibit their creative prowess. To be honest, I’m quite impressed.”