I hope he wakes up every night in a cold sweat for the rest of his life. I hope he becomes afraid of mirrors, b/c he can’t bear to look at himself. I hope that scrap of intellect eats him alive.

Last night Cody and I mused about who was going to be fired in tonight’s Friday Night Massacre.

(We will. I know we will. I’m just having a low moment. Probably b/c I had to try to calm my students’ fears without knowing any more than they do.)