is that a meat log on your plate...

tonight's second course at dinner was a veritable meat log: a sausage rolled in chicken rolled in bacon. you can imagine the immature innuendo that came from that. what you might not expect was the fact that it all came from the end of the table where Walsh, Mira, and Fenton were sitting. there is something to be said for dining with your professors every night. some particular gems:

Mira: "i think there's a bone in mine"
Fenton: "that's there for extra rigidity"

Fenton: "and it's cooked in butter."
Walsh: "well you need to throw some lube on there."

then the conversation turned to the evolution of metal music. i forget the band in question (was it Rush?) but Fenton pulled out this gem:
"it's like masturbatory guitar playing crossed with Ayn Rand."

needless to say this was the most bizarre dinner i've had so far. and no i was not drinking.