physics notes II

My notebook reads:

"Sitting here in my rigid and horribly unpleasant green chair and desk combo, whose blotchy blue writing surface makes me think of a bloody yet strangely satisfying Smurf massacre, I can't help but wonder that maybe I picked the wrong major. I ponder said idea because while I stare at three whole whiteboards covered with blue, red, green, and black equations (I'd like to note at this point, in another one of my overly long parenthesized interjections, that if a random someone were to look at this mess on the board it would undoubtedly look to them like the ramblings of a man who thought about physics too long and ended up going completely mad, which would make sense because my physics professor clearly lost it and went insane years ago) I find myself slowly realizing that I couldn't give a flying fuck about how many Joules of work it takes to push a 45 kg cart up a frictionless surface inclined at 23 degrees. Seriously, that's just dumb."

Thinking about what I wrote now, maybe I would like physics more if we solved for something interesting like, say, I don't know, how much force would it take to jam a piece of construction reinforcement bar through the professor's head.

Feeling a bit silly today:
"Aw, Aw baby, Yeah, ooh Yeak, huh, listen to this
Spy on me baby use satellite
Infrared to see me move through the night
Aim gonna fire shoot me right
Aim gonna like the way you fight
And I love the way you fight"

--Tom Jones is an ass - those lyrics don't even make sense--