I Curse You, Monsanto
Dear Monsanto v. Geertson Farms,
I knew you were bad news.
First you require me to do a campout despite your mid-major status. Then, for all that waiting, you compel me to write up your oral argument despite its otherwise opaque, technical nature. Now, as I am writing, you destroy my chances at going out on top this term:
The fact that I’m told “the guy in the picture likes what you’re doing so much he will relinquish the #1 ticket to you,” doesn’t soothe the pain you’ve caused me. #1 deserves to be #1, even if I’d be out there already if it weren’t for you.
I curse you, Monsanto. I curse you.