“You should come out to the formal,” I told one of my students, rather matter-of-factly. “Dress up and have a good time. Bring your sister as well.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’ll be great,” I assured her. “I’ll be there,” I said, as if my being there was worth the price of admission alone.

“What am I going to do there?” she stubbornly asked.

“Mingle? Enjoy the company?”

“I wouldn’t know anybody there…” she continued.

“You’d know me!” I said, with an arrogant puff of my chest and a silly grin on my face.

“But aren’t you like…King Shit in the math department?” she asked innocently.

“…King…Shit…?” I slowly repeated, confused.

“Yeah, like V.P. of the Math Society and everything. Other people say you’re like, King Shit. You’ll be too busy with everybody else.” she accused, as if it was painfully obvious.

It’s not often I’m left speechless. Then again, it’s not often I’m called “King Shit” of anything.

“Let me tell you a story,” I said, still smiling after the requisite groans swept through the class.

“Back when I was in elementary school — maybe when I was 8 years old — I would always walk home near a church. It sort of looked like this…”

“But instead of walking along the paved roads, I would always cut across the lawn of the church. And for the longest time, I wondered why this was the best path. How did you know cutting across the lawn was the shortest way of getting home? I mean, how did you really know? How does one go about actually proving it?”

“It wasn’t until I looked into the so-called triangle inequality…”

“…that I realized, ‘Hey, so that’s why I always made it home on time to watch tv!’. I always thought that was neat. Then again, what growing boy hasn’t thought of this?”

“Did you walk home alone?”, asked a student.

Before I had a chance to answer, another one quipped, “Obviously.”

There was little I could say or do that would drown out the loud snickering that ensued.

…and I figured, “Gee Phil, you should post something just to let people know, like, you’re still alive.”

But then I took a look around and saw that all my blog friends were neglecting their services as well, and so I was all, “Shah, I’ll post somethin’ when they post somethin’.”

To: Phil
From: Steven
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: None

Dear Phil,

I am a huge fan of all things law and economics, but I hate math. Unfortunately, to go into economics I need a good Calculus mark, so I was wondering if you had any good pointers on what is the best way to study Calculus and Data Management?

Sincerely,
Steven

To: Steven
From: Phil
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: Re: None

As with most things in life, the best way to learn math is to do math.

And as I say to my students, “AS IF you have anything better to do Friday night…”

To: Phil
From: Nikki
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: Harry Potter

Have you been reading up on all the Harry Potter Book 7 conspiracies? I’m getting more and more obsessed… It’s coming out July 7, 2007 and I’m already jazzed up. I’ve been reading all these interviews with JK Rowling where she is hinting at what happens and it’s driving me nuts.

I’m such a dork.

To: Phil
From: Catherine
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: mathematicians

Well I guess my mother was wrong when she told me that mathematicians have no sense of humour. I guess math isn’t…that bad.

Did I say that out loud?

To: Phil
From: Alex
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: about a girl

…so what am I going do? I’ve got school tommorow and I don’t want to skip — there’s this girl that shows up and well, you know how it is…

To: Alex
From: Phil
Date: Sometime in the last week
Subject: Re: about a girl

I miss that.

Dragging your lazy ass to school because there’s some girl you always fancied. Another reason why I miss high school so much.

I walked in to give the Linear Algebra tutorial the other day and saw thirty students snickering, along with this scandalous message, neatly printed in big letters on the black board:

Yeah, I know the poetry is horrendous — as if they couldn’t find a third word to rhyme with ‘nut’ and ‘butt’ .

And besides, practically everyone knows that my ass cheeks, like Michelangelo’s David, are Roman in both proportion and muscularity. Hell, give em’ a squeeze. Go ahead. I promise you won’t be disapointed.

So for the few students who are reading this – you and I, we’re going to have a serious discussion about my derrière next Wednesday. Do your homework, takes notes, and prepare to kiss my ass, you little brats.

“God,” she said, “why do you always have to be so…so…”

She stopped and her face scrunched up as she racked her brain for that perfect word that would send me into tears.

“…why do you have to be so…Phil all the time?”, she finally stated triumphantly, the emphasis on my name as if it was the most vile thing someone could possibly say to their TA.

I blinked once. Twice. Sighed wearily, and trudged away in silence.

In perhaps one of the most sincere and brilliant posts I’ve read in recent days, our soon-to-be elected leader talks about — well, the petty shit.

And yes, I did have to look up the definition of what a muffin top is. I’m not quite as hip as the rest of you.

In fact, if you’re really hardcore about the way you toss around words like ‘muffin top’, you should be sure to read Lydia Steier’s article on the Urban Etymology of Muffin Tops.

Because like, there’s nothing worse than being corrected by one of your gramatically bitchy homeboys.