I made my daily visit to the secretary’s office.

“Sup’,” she said.

“I need your opinion on something. I have this 40% final project due in 15 minutes. And I don’t know which title page to use. You know, because I’m always so keen on the important things.”

“Show me wotcha’ got.”

“Okay, so here’s the one I like.”

She cackles.

“…but you know, I think it’s a bit too risqué.”

” — Right, what class is this for?”

“Exactly my point! This is supposed to be a graduate level class. You know, serious project about serious things in fluid mechanics. Grown-up and matooore Ph.D. and Master’s students, presenting their academic studies in a no-frills and austere fashion.”

“But you toned it down, did you?”

“Sure did. I took my overwhelming Phil-ness, then cropped and resized it by twenty percent. I got this:

“Booooooring.”

“I KNOW!”

“Go with funny. Funny is good.”

“You know, that’s what I think. But I don’t want to risk offending anybody.”

“Honestly, why are you in math, again?”

“Sometimes, I don’t even know.”