One of my coworkers has a son going into college in the next week or two. We were chatting about it when one phrase stopped me:
"He's going into physical therapy, we've decided."
Whuck?!?
The kid doesn't get to pick his own major?
That's the way to ensure that he'll be an "artist" who lives in their garage and sculpts items out of cockroaches and rat feces.
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