My husband is getting a Master's Degree. So what? You ask. Well, honestly, don't you think that's a little snarky? It's my blog; I can talk about whatever I want. And today we're talking about my husband's new-found life as an academic.
Besides, I'm pretty sure you're just jealous that YOUR husband isn't getting the Master's Degree MY husband is getting. And you should be, cuz it's really cool. It's a Master's of Criminology.
But it's his specialty that is the cool part: Weapons of Mass Destruction.
That's right, all you nuclear capability wannabees, there's a new sheriff in town. And anyone thinking about launching a WMD against Las Vegas had better know, if you don't file the proper paperwork and get the appropriate permits, my man will be all OVER your sorry, crazy-person grass. Don't think he won't.
The thing is, he wasn't always this, you know, this guy. When we were growing up, he was mostly "the cute boy up the street who didn't act like a complete spam-brain at the youth activities". As you might imagine, there weren't many of them; he kinda stood out. He was reserved and nice and normal.
I, on the other hand, came from a long line of spam-brains, which meant I stood out, too, in much the same way that a giant zit or Roseanne Barr 'stands out'. Not always your first choice for company, but difficult to miss.
To this day I couldn't tell you why he married me. He's had two CAT scans and has seen an exorcist, and no one can come up with an explanation. The guy is totally nuts for me. Go figure love.
Anyway, we both attended the University of Utah, where I obtained a BA in Hating College and he earned far more practical degrees in Accounting and Finance.
You read that right. He'll have a Bachelor's in Accounting, and a Master's in Weapons of Mass Destruction. Bin Laden, eat your heart out.
How many terrorists do you know who can wipe out a major city and then figure out how to write it off on their taxes, hmm? NONE, that's how many. Think Saddam had a Master's in WMD? Pfft. As if. Why do you think Osama Bin Loser is hiding out? He's freaking embarrassed to share the same planet as my highly credentialed husband!
"Um, sir, Mr. Bin Hasbin, sir? Why do you hang your head in shame?" his stinky minions ask. "Is it because none of us have washed our hair or brushed our teeth in nine years?" And he says, "Well, that does sometimes get me down. But the real problem is that the glorious jihad against the harlot nation of infidel swine-pigs was moving along nicely until Special Agent DeNae's Secret Husband got that ...sniff...got...gulp... that MWMD! ...sob, sob, blow nose on rocket launcher... Now, I think maybe I should just bag it all and sell Avon or something."
Well, too late, you swammy-headed fruitcake! He's OFFICIAL now! His textbooks arrived today via - who else? - Federal Express, and while I only glimpsed a couple of titles before the disappearing ink kicked in (and I'm wondering if perhaps they ought to re-think that particular feature), what I saw looked pretty darn MENACING!
"If You Give a Psychopath Enriched Uranium" and "Goodbye, Moon" were just the pre-reading materials, for crying out loud! I hate to think what his group projects will entail. It's never a good thing when the packing list from the college includes "giant lead ball gown and beekeeper's hat". We're definitely going to have to swing by Wal Mart on our way to the bus station.
Anyway, just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of The Husband Formerly Known as Accountant. Considering that this is a man who is so even-tempered and self-disciplined he once described his involvement in a drug raid as "opening a can of whoop-bummy on them" because his kids were in the room, I can pretty much guarantee: The world's loonies will never see him coming.
And you can bet, once he's rounded up those rustlers and tossed 'em in the big house, he'll find a way to claim every single one of them as a dependent on the ol' 1040A.
Sigh. My hero.