I'LL ANSWER ANYTHING, PART 3

Michael sounded like he could use a sexy dream and a pick-me-up (And he made comments on my bloggity. If you make comments I just might do nice things for you, too). So rather than your regularly scheduled programming, I'm going to answer Michael's question from way back in July. Because I'm nice like that.

Michael says: Tell me about a golden land of milk and honey where grad students are (adequately) funded and the True Academic (tm) is a heroic, respected figure in society.

Y'know, fiction.

Once upon a time in a land far, far away - let's say Mars for the sake of argument - there was a wonderful, not assholish university. Only the brightest of the bright got to go to the WNAU located mere lightyears from the Martian colony of Red Rock.

Our young hero, Michael, was a fresh faced and happy lad of 23 who had just graduated from Ass Rape U. They were not so kind to sweet Michael at ARU but they had not broken his spirit. Despite what everyone said, he knew he had a chance and he applied for the grad program at WNAU.

Oh, what a happy day it was when Michael received his acceptance letter to WNAU. Here was finally a school where SOMEONE might finally appreciate his wit, charm, and brilliance.

But young Michael had a problem. WNAU was on Mars and, as such, cost a whole freaking butt-load of money. How was he possibly going to pay his way?

But fear not, young reader. A plan soon presented itself, for Michael soon found himself a sugar daddy who really appreciated his boyish charm and after only a few nights of life scarring and humiliating debouchery, a tear-stained faced Michael got a fond pat on his sore rump and off he went to better horizons.

WNAU was everything our hero ever dreamt of. He felt a true nurturing of his talents and an appreciation of his ideas and hard work. And, joy of joys, he met someone. She was young, smart, and demure with flowing red hair and fiery blue eyes and she though our hero was brilliant and funny and she liked to do naughty sexual favors to him in their hover-bed in the hazy red light of the Martian sunrise.

Our dear Michael had never been more happy.

Upon graduation, Michael received not one, but 13 offers to do whatever the hell it is he wants to do with his life, four of which offered at least six figures and benefits out the wazu. Of course, no matter if Michael was rich or poor, his lovely, arm candy girlfriend was so desperately in love with his she would have married him no matter what.

So he took the job where he was appreciated and respected and absolutely swimming in the money and never did he speak of that one time, before college, where he was ass candy for some dirty, dirty old pervert.

The end.

* * *

There Michael. I hope that made you feel better! You got two times the sexy dream. Yeeoowww! You stud you.

* * *

Do the rest of you who bother to read my bloggity realize what that means? DO YOU?! It means I am out of story ideas for when I'm out of bloggity ideas which means you buttheads are slacking and you need to ask me more questions. Anything goes.

And I DO mean ANYTHING.