Some inky pursuits have been for the sake of The Clouds, or my attempt to make every student consider how similar “thunderclap sounds to fart and crap.”
It may have also been my excuse to deface a stage with dozens of stolen cookies.
This here is Clarence W., sixth year graduate student at The Thinkery. When he isn’t working on his dissertation on the depths of Hades, Clarence enjoys neglecting meals, swatting at fleas, and playing martial anapest rhythms at the local lute society.
Now Clarence is my roommate, along with one Randall P. It’s a bit crowded.