You're all just weak-minded. I could ace an essay exam using a pen in the middle of a night club with hot, topless girls all around me and lots of beer and painfully loud dance music after downing several beers and working all day.
That's nothing. You must have ridden the short bus as a kid.
I could ace an essay exam in a language I've never even seen, on a subject I know nothing about, using only a charcoal briquette and a napkin, at four o'clock in the morning, after not sleeping for nine days, and drinking fifths and taking sleeping pills all evening, while falling out of an airplane without a parachute, in a Houdini water tank spinning at 22,000 RPG, in which I am trapped and handcuffed and have no breathing gear, in a blizzard in the dark midst of a freezing Antarctic winter, as high-energy radioactive meteorites explode all around me, with nude masturbating amphibious lesbian ninjas waving their private parts inches from my face, and European death metal ringing out at 300 decibels from the oversized amplifiers of massive alien battle cruisers, even as Nazis shoot at me with missiles from the ground. In fact, that's how I got into the prestigious Harvard College of Theoretical Interdisciplinary Awesome.
