If my preppy liberal arts school had classes on fantasy literature, I would ace that shit.
Yesterday I (re)read the entire seventh harry potter (after reading the sixth in just a few days). This makes me a nerd, yes, and probably means I should still be in seventh grade. However, that's 760 pages in 11 hours. In other words, the epitome of dedication.
I dream about harry potter, too. This is very sad, I understand.
I love this shit.
I love Dumbledore.
I wish the books didn't end.
I also recently conquered all three Lord of the Rings movies in one day. That was a feat. I was accompanied by cousin, ginger, which I feel makes it a little less pathetic.
In contrast, I didn't open either of my textbooks for my two psychology classes this past semester. And psychology is my major. Imagine the lack of work that went into all other subjects. Kind of impressive, I know.
Anyway, when I become headmaster of a university (conveniently and coincidentally named Hogwarts), the only major will be magical studies, and the only books required will be those written by J.K Rowling or J. R. R. Tolkien. Our language department will cover Elvish and Parsletongue.
If anyone wants to teach or attend, there are no requirements for you to do so. Just send an owl or a hobbit.
It will be awesome.
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