I I whooooaaaaaa i'm still alive

yeah, not a whole lot to report.

school's in now, so that's pretty much taking all my time. nothing super interesting going on.

holy moly, it's been almost a month

i'm sorry.

i'm still alive.

i'm not sorry i'm still alive, just sorry i haven't updated lately.

yes, i realize the amount of ego it takes to write that, since one who would write such a thing must assume you care that it's been several weeks since an update.

how is viagra like disney world?

you have to wait an hour for each 5-minute ride.

more later. keep the faith.

avoid the clap,
jimmy dugan

Thinkin' 'bout leavin' tomorrow

the next reader contest i have will be "Name that Blog."

we sold the house (assuming appraisals and all that shiznonsense) this weekend. the buyers want to close within two weeks, so there are very few dispatches left to be sent from the northshore.

we'll be living in kenner for a while until we get the house built in metairie.

dear reader, it's up to you to decide what the blog will be renamed. Here are a list of things that will not be considered as possible replacement names.

-I'm 27 and Live with My In-laws

well, actually, that's about it.

winner will get to write the first entry for the renamed (and maybe redesigned) blog. leave your suggestions in the comments.

She turned me into a newt!

Several things have caught my eye media-wise today:

Check out this sentence from a story about a guy named Samuel Clemens doing a painting on the side of a hill.

Artist Samuel Clemens, not to be confused with the author of the same name, is at it again.

Man, I'm glad they cleared that up. Because if i saw that there was something going on in Newport, Oregon, written in the present tense about Samuel Clemens, i would have immediately assumed they were talking about the guy who's been dead for nearly 100 years.

And you all know how much zombie painters freak me out. I probably would've had a panic attack or something.

Nothing in my life has prepared me for the possibility that sometimes people have the same name...

...i got a chuckle this morning watching ESPN and seeing this appear at the bottom of the screen. "Adam 'Pacman' Jones to turn himself into authorities"

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, i will now asexually reproduce exact replicas of myself, each of whom will attend and graduate from the police academy...

...And, finally (i hope), this story tells of a girl who had a cable lop off both her feet when a ride at Six Flags broke. Check out two of the quotes from witnesses.

"When I got up there, the lady she was just sitting there, and she didn't have no legs."

"I seen the car go up. Then, like, the cable broke, I heard -- pwchh -- and I heard a lot of people screaming," Chris Stinnett, who was at a ride next to the Superman Tower of Power, told WDRB/WMYO.
"The cable went under the car -- and I seen it pull up and hit a lot of people -- and I seen them bring their legs up," Stinnett said.

For any current/potential journalists out there, i want to use these as an example. (disclaimer: i think there's a better than average chance the story was transcribed from a television story, so there may have been nothing to be done about the quotes.)

But if you should find yourself writing a story and you have very helpful sources, don't make them look stupid. I know, technically, you're supposed to quote people exactly. But would it have really done any harm to say "the cable went under the car -- and i saw it pull up and hit a lot of people -- and i saw them bring their legs up."

again, this is merely an example. i'm not faulting the writer here - unless it isn't a story transcript. in which case, i am faulting him or her.

Douchebaggery with a passport

I excused myself to go play online poker (sadly, of the "play money" variety) last night so courtney could watch matt lauer interview the prince people.

while i was playing, i heard lauer say something along the lines of "...talking to your mates at the pub..."

yes, i can just picture Matty Crewcut picking up that bit of dialect quite naturally in greenwich freaking connecticut. i'm sure all his "mates" at the "pubs" talk like that in new england.

freaking assclown.

Come witness the violence inherent in the system

(if you don't like when i talk sports, skip to the next section)

I'm flabbergasted.

There was a great college baseball game between Cal State Fullerton and UC-Irvine yesterday that went 13 innings.

In the bottom of the last inning, the Irvine lead-off man ducked his shoulder into a pitch that was maybe half an inch off the inside corner and the ball grazed off his sleeve (i think it was the third time he had been hit by a pitch in the game).

He quickly tossed the bat away and headed to first base. And then the strangest thing happened -- the umpire let him keep going.

Irvine eventually ended up scoring a run to win the game (as is the case a great deal of the time when you get the leadoff man on with nobody out).

The Fullerton coach got tossed for arguing the call, as was his responsibility, but i believe it would have taken security to get me off that field. The home plate umpire should never call another World Series game (fyi: i was actually pulling for Irvine before that play).

What baffles me even more is that the ESPN story about the game doesn't even mention the play (looks like CNNSI.com ran the same AP story).

***

To answer Ryan's question from yesterday's Father's Day massacre, my eyes are fine, but my face is a little redder than normal.

***

Book review time. I have to premise this by saying that I bought this book before I realized it was an Oprah book club book.

I'm like the literary equivalent of an indy music snob, i like just finding books to read instead of picking up what everyone else is getting (although i certainly read my share of authors like King and Grisham). I basically spend 20 minutes cruising through bookstores judging books by their covers/titles. It's how I discovered such gems as Like the Red Panda by Andrea Seigel and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon; although by this point i'm pretty sure both books have long surpassed the status of "seth's secret treasure" by the reading public.

Any who, what i'm ultimately trying to say is that while I was judging The Road by Cormac McCarthy by its cover, I somehow managed to miss the big ass Oprah sticker on front. Mea culpa...

The novel is about a father and son trying to find someplace warm after what can best be described as the end of the world. We never find out what ultimately precipitated the widespread death of plants and animals and humans and wambats and orangutans and breakfast cereals, nor do we learn why the man and boy survived the event. But the two travel many miles by foot through through snow and ashes, trying to survive.

Let's go to the scorecards:

Plot: 4.5
Not a whole lot to say here. Aside from not knowing what exactly the beginning is, there is a beginning, middle and end. Action progresses nicely throughout the novel.

Comedic Relief: 3
There really isn't any that i recall. but i'm not giving it a zero because i'm not sure there was actually any room for humor.

Ending: 4
how to put this...the ending tells you everything you need to know about the story of the man and his son. I think it also gives you a little more info without completely killing the mood of the rest of the book. Can't really say anymore without ruining it for you.

Je ne sais quoi: 4
McCarthy does a great job of telling the story and letting the reader know how hopeless the situation is without wasting a word. I would have liked a little more background, but that's likely the point--it doesn't matter how whatever happened happened, it's just a situation you either deal with or you don't.
There are also several times I would read a sentence and think "what a great sentence. I'm glad i wasn't the one who wrote this book, because i never would have thought to write that."

Final score: 15.5

Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Chocolate Boogers

I literally ate until I puked yesterday.

To understand the full story, we need to go back a bit.

About a month ago I was in Minden for my sister's graduation and went to the doctor. When I got weighed, I tipped the scales at 207.

There is absolutely no way for someone my height to gracefully carry around 207 pounds, so i decided to lose some weight.

I got serious about it a couple of weeks ago. Aside from spending time on the treadmill everyday, i was dodging the urge to snack by eating small meals more often.

Oatmeal for breakfast around 8 or 9. A sandwich at 11. At 1 p.m., a sandwich and some fruit. A couple of hours later, one of those healthy fruit cereal bars. Then a normal dinner at night and maybe some fruit before bed after my run.

Despite history telling me it wasn't going to happen, I decided that i was going to maintain that discipline when i went to courtney's folks' for Father's Day.

I made myself drink a couple of bottles of water before I had my first beer. Then I would rotate between beer and water.

But then the food happened.

It started out harmlessly enough with a quick bite of spinach dip. But then I kept eating it. Then i had a few bites from a couple of other different appetizers.

Then there was a break. Then the real food came.

I went into the kitchen to make my plate. I looked at my plate, then looked at all the food in front of me.

"This is going to be a two-plater, i believe," I told Courtney's uncle.

"yep."

So i take a little potato salad, and a little corn casserole, and a spoonfull of barbeque beans, and small piece of sausage, and a chicken breast and a couple of ribs and a piece of bread and go outside to eat.

Everything was delicious. Courtney's dad recommended i try a chicken leg. So after finishing my plate, i went inside, planning on getting a chicken leg.

Courtney is in there at the same time i am, and sees me pass up the corn casserole she made in favor of more barbeque beans. She guilts me into adding the corn to my plate. I grab a chicken wing and somehow manage to talk myself into three more ribs and another piece of bread (my guess is the beer was working harder than the water at this point).

Somehow i manage to finish off everything, but am not a very happy camper (despite the delicious food).

I sort of exist for a little bit. just hanging around not doing much of anything, although i'm pretty sure i'm going into shock.

Then they bring out the gelato.

I'm about halfway through a beer when they start serving. Mmmm, beer and ice cream. I was not happy.

Despite much of the day being a blur, i remember very clearly what i was thinking as courtney and her mom were passing out dessert. and i still don't understand how it could so obviously conflict with the rational side of my brain.

"ooh, I want a waffle cone because it's bigger, and she better put gelato in the whole thing and not just one scoop on top of the cone."

Ask and ye shall receive.

I knew about 20 seconds in that it was not in my best interest to finish the entire cone. I knew 12 seconds in that i was, in fact, going to eat the entire cone.

Shortly after finishing it, I walked inside and ran into courtney.

"what are you doing?" she asks.

"Pretty sure I'm going to throw up."

She says something dismissive, and i lie down on the living room floor. Not a good idea.

I get back up quickly and walk into the bathroom downstairs. I hung out there for a second, and decided that i didn't want to hurl where everybody was using the bathroom. So i scurried upstairs.

I paced around the bathroom for a bit, with no action beyond the occasional burp. I went and sat outside the bathroom and zoned out for about 10 minutes. Then i try lying down, and rediscover that changing positions is not good for the ol' stomach.

Courtney comes and finds me.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to throw up."

At this point, most people would want to throw up just to feel better. I, however, do not have that luxury.

When I throw up, it's violent. I'm talking burst-blood-vessels-in-my-face-and-eyeballs violent. People usually can't stand to look at me for a couple of days after i puke because my eyes are bloodshot and i look like i have a rash on my face.

It had been almost 3.5 years to the day since the last time I had thrown up. It was after my college graduation party. I'm pretty sure it was either caused by a bad appetizer or the Crown on the rocks i was double fisting through most of the party.

I was doing everything in my power to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

I went back outside and took a seat.

Someone else had arrived at the party and i stood up to shake his hand, getting woozy in the process. He then lifted the lid to the trashcan to throw away his plate and i got a big whiff of barbeque sauce.

Good night nurse.

I try not to make a scene and double-time it into the house. Courtney follows me in.

Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?

Without looking back i just snap my fingers. My little way of saying, yes, i hear you, but if i open my mouth the next sound you hear will most definitely not be English.

I make it upstairs, open the toilet and ralph something that looked like half-digested chocolate ice cream. I don't know if that's a simile or not, since it really was half-digested chocolate ice cream.

Courtney, ever faithful, comes into the bathroom. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just threw up. Wasn't so bad, don't think i broke anything in my face."

She takes a look and agrees. Then a second wave hit.

"Um, you might want to leave."

Then second round was a little more like i was used to. Including one of those things where you spasm and the next batch comes up while you're still puking the first batch, so it's like you're throwing up two different throw ups at the same time.

I have one last barf--this one was splattery--then try to start cleaning up.

Courtney comes in.

"man," i say, "I don't think i could handle having an eating disorder."

Then I stand up. And i feel great.

"Wait, I think i could handle an eating disorder. This is awesome."

Of course, I had the usual post-vomit breathing problems. so i grab a kleenex to try to clear stuff out.

I take a look and the kleenex is brown. How cool is that?

"Sweet, chocolate boogers. Hey, Courtney, look, i've got chocolate boogers."

And they all lived happily ever after.

Restring all your guitars and pack up all your stuff

i completely forgot that i read a third book a couple of weekends ago.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max

This won't get the standard review because it's unlike anything else you'll read.

basically, self-professed womanizing, alcoholic asshole tells all his best stories.

the stories where he lets his actions speak for themselves are hilarious. There were a few times on the plane i had to put the book down or hand it to Michael because i was going to make a scene.

Sometimes though, he resorts to a "listen to how funny I am" narrative that just doesn't work. As i've mentioned before, it's hard to like someone who laughs at his own jokes.

For example, when he throws a fat girl's clothes out his bedroom window so he won't have to introduce her to his friends it's hilarious. when he talks about how funny it was to make fun of a fat girl at a party, it wasn't so funny. Not because it was mean, but because what he was saying wasn't funny. (Sort of like how the why did the chicken cross the road joke is not funny, but not because its mean.)

check out some of the stories at his web site.

***

Ok, i'll now break the rule i just complained about and laugh at my own joke...

A while back i had to write about a musuem closing its egypt exhibit for renovations. My headline:

Caulk like an Egyptian

***

I broke a string on my guitar the other day trying to tune it. I don't know why i was tuning it considering i don't know how to play it.

***

and now, why i love reno911:

Reno 911! - New Boot Goofin'

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Take me back to New Orleans and don't call me anymore

Well, got the first schematic drawings of the new house. really like them.

Went over them this weekend to tweak some things and we're meeting with the engineer tomorrow to discuss our suggestions.

Optimistically hoping to be in the house by June or July of next year.

Had a couple of nibbles on our house now, but nothing real serious...

...I'm about halfway through with my weekend recap. should be done any day now...

...I've actually been showing some will power in my quest to lose weight. running everyday and eating smarter. Don't think the pounds are melting off just yet, but hoping for a noticeable difference in a couple of weeks...

...Saw Knocked Up this weekend. It's about a surgical intern at Seattle Grace Hospital who gets pregnant after a drunken night celebrating a promotion to become an on-air personality for E!.

Very, very funny movie. Slow at a couple of parts, but otherwise a lot of fun.

I'm trying to think of the last movie i saw that was this funny. I guess whichever came out later, Anchorman or Old School. Of course, I'm sure I'm forgetting one, so feel free to remind me in the comments.

But i give it an 8 out of 10.

[Edit: Upon further review, probably funniest movie since first 2/3 of Wedding Crashers]

You think Rockford Files is cool

Much like I always do in my actual work, I have grossly underestimated how much time it will take me to complete my recap of my weekend in Pittsburgh and Boston. So i'm changing my arrival date from "yesterday or today" to "uh, whenever."

But keep the faith, friend(s?), it will happen.

So let's do some reviews of my in-flight reading. I'm introducing a new scale, since i don't think my 1-10 was very consistent.

It's now a 20-point scale, with four, five-point categories. Here's how it breaks down:

Plot: Is there one? any obvious holes or generally unbelievable parts beyond what is acceptable in a work of fiction?

Comedic Relief: This has two incarnations. For heavier themed books, it's the unexpected laughs. For lighter reads, it's the laugh out loud parts beyond the general whimsy of the story.

Ending: A bad ending ruins books for me. it doesn't have to tie everything up nicely, but if there some unanswered questions, there needs to be enough there for me to figure it out on my own.

Je ne sais quoi: All the stuff i don't know how to categorize. Will also serve as a tool for me to adjust scores that seem too low or too high after the first three categories.

And away we go

Hit Parade by Lawrence Block

The third in a series of novels about a stamp-collecting hit man named Keller. The first two were excellent and quite funny. This one?

Plot: 2.5
I guess there was technically a plot, but it read more like a series of short stories. Way too much referencing to past events in the book, like he was trying to catch the reader up on what had happened previously. Wouldn't be so bad if he weren't trying to catch you up on something that happened 10 pages ago.

Comedic Relief: 4
The book as a whole is a fun read, but not a ton of belly laughs. Probably could give a lower score, but want to make sure it gets credit for being consistently humorous.

Ending: 3
Nothing special, but it got the job done.

Je ne sais quoi: 3
The two main characters, Keller and his broker, are endlessly likeable, but i'm not sure how much farther Block can go with them. Wouldn't be surprised if this is the last Keller book.

Final Score: 12.5 out of 20

Music for Torching by A.M. Homes

Unhappy suburban couple sets their house on fire, successfully making it look like an accident. Family splits while repairs/upgrades are being made. Couple stays with neighbors while their two sons stay with different friends. The sort of weirdness that very few beyond Homes are able to conjure and keep things readable ensues.

Plot: 5
Reading it, i felt a lot like the characters: I knew i was going somewhere, i just didn't know where. And I most certainly didn't expect it to go where it went.

Comedic relief: 4
For as bizarre and frustrating as this book and its characters got, it was surprisingly funny.

Ending: 4
I was torn on how to score this. The ending didn't suit my preferences, but i think Homes had to end it like she did to stay consistent with the novel as a whole. The more i think about, the more i think she met the "at least give me enough to figure it out for myself" criteria. So this score is .5 higher than i originally had it.

Je ne sais quoi: 3
There's one subplot that I found a little hard to believe. It involved one of the sons and i just can't fathom how the couple missed what was happening. Ultimately, i think the point of the story was that the fact that they could miss it was the problem. blame my happy upbringing, i guess.

Final score: 16 out of 20
(read this book)

I ain't a morning person, but i'd be one if i could

I'm in the process of writing about my recent extended weekend in Pittsburgh and Boston. Hopefully I'll have it finished tonight or tomorrow.

I didn't get to work on it too much last night because it took me three and a half hours to get home from work.

I read a couple of books on the trip, but i'm just too tired right now to write any reviews.

Now i have to catch up on missed work.

and don't forget to give me back my black t-shirt

Best Starburst flavors, by wrapper color. Best to worst.

1.Orange
2.Pink
3. yellow
4. Red

Non-traditional starburst flavors are gross.

Courtney is taking part of the CPA exam today. she should be done any minute now.

I'm going on vacation at the end of next week. Going to see a Pirates-Dodgers game in Pittsburgh and two Yankee-Red Sox games in Boston.

While courtney was studying this week, i read To Feel Stuff by Andrea Seigel.

It was a very quick read with a pretty interesting plot. Sick girl lives in university infirmary. "Dates" a fellow patient. Sees ghosts.

Not a world changing read, but it was pretty darned good. hard to complain about a book i read in two days.

i give it a solid 7 out of 10.

Spatial comparison of goodness of starburst flavors by wrapper color.

Orange
Pink

Yellow



Red











nontraditional

Heeeeey, you've got to hide your love away

Just wanted to drop by and say hello.

Nothing too specific to talk about today.

Had some very weird dreams last night. one involved drunk driving, another involved rocket launchers and the third involved me playing the piano at a relative's wedding.

I don't remember much about the first (seems appropriate). In the second dream, i was trying to blow up this house and kill two people. but whenever i would shoot a rocket, it would go through a window or something and blow up a house across the street. Then one of the guys pulled out a machine gun and started shooting at me.

In the last dream i was sitting at a piano in church writing a song to play during the wedding. then i looked at the program and the couple had already picked out which song i was going to play. i went and asked my brother to play it for me because i couldn't read sheet music (the fact that i can't actually play the piano didn't appear to be a problem).

I guess that's about it for now. since i made my mom mad with the last video i posted, let's do something with less pointless violence and more pointless.

hmmmmm

Could you describe a slightly wrinkled shirt as "irony?"


wait....

think about it....

think about it.....

there.

now you get it.

funny, huh?

Everything has changed, absolutely nothing's changed

It's already been a long day.

I've been up since 3 this morning finishing up two stories due today. And by "due today" I mean "due yesteday." And by "due yesterday," I mean "one was due monday." But that's OK because i turned in another story monday. and by "But that's OK because i turned in another story monday" i mean "that's not OK because the story i turned in monday was due last friday."

Now i have the most boring assignment ever due to today. Yes, I've known it was due today for a month. but that's neither here nor there.

As you likely gathered from a couple of posts ago, I'll be leaving journalism in a few months. Within the next week or two I will sign a contract to teach English (and probably a couple social studies classes) at an all-girl Catholic high school in New Orleans.

Courtney and I are also moving to Metairie. We've put our house up for sale and are in processing of buying a lot on the southshore. There's a good chance we'll live with her parents for a while during construction.

We met with an engineer/architect guy and a builder/developer guy Monday to talk about the new house. It's stressful. It felt like when i bought my car and i was all like "i'm on a budget, tell me if i can't afford it" and the salesman was all like "you can afford it" and the sales manager was all like "you can't afford it" but i bought it anyway and now i owe about a gazillion more dollars on it than it's worth and i hate it even though it's a good car and i should've been happy to get it but i wasn't.

So now i'm interested to hear back from the drawer-of-plans man to see how many of our square feet get amputated.

Enjoy...

Bad Will Acting

Let's catch up on some reviews...

Read another one of The Dresden Files books, can't remember the name of it. Another solid effort, though.

In the middle of reading Filth, by Irvine Welsh (who also wrote Trainspotting).

This is, without a doubt, the most appropriately titled novel ever. It's a good read, but i don't know if i can finish it. if i do, you'll get a full review.

But let's talk television today.

Grey's Anatomy

Yeah, I watch Grey's Anatomy. Shut up.

Of late, the show has been slipping from the quality entertainment it provided in the first two seasons. But last night's episode was much better than the the last several installments.

I don't think it's a coincidence that since the episode centered largely on the interns being interns (having to take a test to stay in the program) it was a good show. I'm not a big fan of the soap opera stuff that has crept into the show and has dominanted it for most of this season.

Since next week's season finale will pretty much have to wrap up the soap opera stuff (except for the necessary cliff-hanger to bring you back for next season), i'd be willing to bet that last night's episode will prove to be the best of the post-merideth-drowning episodes (the shows before that are a little fuzzy at this point).

I give last night a 7 out of 10, but due to the relative lackluster performances of other episodes, i would probably bump it up to an 8 or 8.5 after the curve.

Traveler

I was pretty excited to see this show, it looked like it would be pretty good.

I made it about halfway through it before i had to change the channel.

The plot idea appears to be solid, but the acting is CHEEEEEEEEZY. Particularly the rich guy's son. Oh yeah, i should back up a bit.

Three friends from Yale grad school. Cross country trip. start in new york. friend one(Will Traveler) disappears. calls other friends. says "i'm sorry." museum they were in blew up. cops think other two friends did it.

needless to say, when friend number two (law school grad) calls the FBI, there's no record Traveler even exists. friend three (rich guy's son) wants to run.

i don't know what happened after that. I changed it after friend two evades authorities and ends up at girlfriend's apartment. (He lives at Yale, she lives in New York, conveniently located where he happens to be. the girlfriend also has no complaints that he had come to New York with absolutely no intention to visit her.)

he looks through her pictures and every one with Traveler in it, his face is covered. So instead of going to the police and saying "see that weird guy you say doesn't exist, we have all these pictures of him with his face covered, that's fishy," he just throws the pictures across the room.

Exit me.

I give it a 4 out of 10.

A womb with a view

i was a victim of a crime this morning.

A drive-by uterus.

I was walking into the kitchen at work to get my morning coffee and there, taped to the door, were pictures of some lady's uterus.

This is apparently some sort of female ritual. They get pregnant and they want people to see their insides.

In a society where you can't show boobies on television, it is perfectly acceptable to say "look, world, I vaginally ingested some semen and it stuck. now there's a baby inside me. please relish its fuzzy, gray cuteness."

If all matters of childbirth are so cuddly, how come you don't ever see people passing around pictures of their shit- and blood-covered c-section? "and heeere's them stacking my intestines on my chest to get to little Mable Claudine, who was the most precious mix of fetal-pig pink and snot."

Now if you are one of those people who enjoy seeing uterae (i'm assuming uterus is a female noun), more power to you. your friends' can keep their pictures in an envelope and ask if you want to see them. You can say yes.

As for me, I have no interest in such matters. See me in a few months when the baby is born, clean and wearing clothes.

and i'll look at all the pictures you have.

Just freakin shoot me

This is a picture a coworker took this weekend.


Yes, it's two dogs riding in a stroller.

Yes, the stroller was brought along for the said purpose of pushing a dog in it. No, there is no baby involved.

You should know that if i ever see one of you pushing a dog in a stroller, we can no longer be friends.

I say hey sky, s'other say I won say, I pray to J I get the same ol' same ol.

i gets a call a coupla weeks ago from some schoo' in n'awlins needin a English teacher and they's be all wonderin if i be feelin it. i's like "sho" so we meets in the principles office and talk and stuff and they be all like "we gown needja to teech a class make sure you widdit" and i's like "sho."

so i drops in wednesday all gettin my observe on and my teach on and afterward they be like "dizzam" cause i learned kids some grammah and some romantic poetry while i show my mad dry erase art skill'z in da hizzouse.

now we beez talkin bouts da possuhbility of me comin to da schoo' and teechin proffessional. and i thinks it prolly gonna happen cause i know the langwidge and should be passin tha nollidge on to the next generation.

so now me an the old lady be lookin to change are residents flip side ah the lake to be closer to her office and da schoo'.

i may be missin da jernalism afta while but i's not so sho since i ain't like them wack honkeys be givin me trubles when i just try be puttin food on tha table. bossman be treatin me aight, not lovin folks be dealin wit outside tha office.

really think i be fective at teechin and lookin foward too it. thinks i get me some good students who wants to get learned. cause chump don wan no help, chump don git no help. Jive ass dude don got no brains anyhow.

A truant finds home

There's change afoot. details available once they're declassified.