There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


The dude abides.

So I'm tutoring a tenth-grader in writing and she told me that her teacher a) has a blog, b) requires his students to read and comment in his blog, and c) requires them to blog.

His blog is here.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think that all of us are attention whores, but isn't this going a bit far? Requiring people to read your crap for a grade? That's one way to get your stats up, I suppose. Especially if you write stuff like "At 11 years old and half-way through the fifth grade, life and all its realities swirl into a maelstrom of frenetic oblivion around Zachary, while somewhere, nestled within the cosmic mysteries and certainties of life’s bildungsroman, the genesis of puberty contemplates passing on one more swipe at the snooze button to begin the ritualistic stretch of rising from dormancy." Holy crap. No wonder his students need help.

It's probably a bad idea to stay at a bar until closing time on Sunday night if you want to be fresh and alert on Monday morning. Especially when you already know that White Russians will knock you on your butt, make you want to watch "The Big Lebowski" for the 80th time, and leave a coating of scum on your teeth that can't be removed by rubbing them with the sleeve of your borrowed sweater. Of course, being up at 3-ish would (hypothetically) allow one to use the lawnmower gasoline to draw an image such as this on the pedophile's lawn. My mouse is very sticky and uncooperative which is why the lines are quite wavy, but if one were to make this kind of design on a lawn with gasoline, one may just make it kind of wavy anyway due to lack of motor control and common sense. Hypothetically.

So I had to go to the Republic of WalMart for a meeting on Saturday with my co"worker" who never shows up and somehow gets away with it. He came to the meeting completely unprepared, causing his part of the meeting to go way over the allotted time, causing him to miss his flight home. Hah! The Germans have a term for taking pleasure in another's pain. If I required people to read this crap for a grade, I would use that word right about now to describe how happy it made me that he missed his flight. Instead, I will simply admit that I am a bitch and I cackled with glee as the plane took off.

I'm tired. Damn White Russians.

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