Given two vector spaces V and W over a field F, look at this fucking dorky math professor.

“I move away from my glasses to breathe in.”

Oh, the rigors of academic conferences. And you wonder why the job still ranks as one of the most coveted in certain social strata despite a depleted job market (well, outside of computer science and physics)?

Hot for professor.

“What can I say? Those poor fellows lacking the cojones to grow the beard went ABD… and it’s not like every schmuck with a basic comprehension of Wittgenstein and Russell will eventually find himself flanked by two women half his age.”

When comely young ladies are walking around with eighth-note balloons on their heads before the party even commences, entrusting the professor with guarding the punchbowl from lysergic interlopers is a necessary precaution.

Whoulda thunk that these genteel geezers are behind such totemic works as Feminizing the Fetish: Psychoanalysis and Narrative Obsession in Turn-of-the Century France and Romeo the Pothead and Juliet the Snitch?

“You mean to say that certain ‘hipsters’ have appropriated these glasses as a fashion statement? Well, I always knew I had a certain panache, but come on, kids… it’s all about Peter Naur.”