Dear Mistaken Readers,

The "week of haiku" wasn't necessarily to mean that I would be writing haiku all week. I mean, does Gay Pride Month mean I have to be proud all month? Or am I not allowed to betray anybody on Loyalty Day? Or does Youth Day mean that I have to disappear for twenty-four hours? C'mon, it's a figure of speech like "moral majority" or "military intelligence"... it doesn't really mean anything. Besides, how is my ferret-like mind supposed to focus on haiku for SEVEN, WHOLE days?

Okay, here's another:

Is the blogosphere
filled with harassing gadflies?
No, it's just Fafe.

funny...

Found this while watching "Mail Order Wife," a completely bizarre movie designed to look like a documentary, but it's a comedy... that's just not funny. But the website's funny.

BuddyCrocker still smarting from BebeMoche's stinging rebuke!

In an effort to prove my masculinity... I mean, originality, I've decided to kick off a week of haiku. See, BebeMoche? I can be original too!

Week of haiku
Painstaking, incomprehensible
Stupid

BebeMoche displays her touchy side!

Jeez, honey... it was just a little joke, you can have the third-person headlines back...

Formula for the worst morning ever...

Step 1: Wake up behind schedule.
Step 2: Run out of Cheerios.
Step 3: Come back from putting away iron to find newly pressed clothes on floor.
Step 4: Stub toe when getting iron out for second time, see blood.
Step 5: Knock picture off wall while maneuvering through dark room, trying to stay quiet so as not to wake up the BF.
Step 6: See subway pull up as you swipe your metrocard, get "Swipe again" message over and over... subway pulls away just as metrocard goes through.
Step 7: Realize you forgot to do anything with your hair.
Step 8: Find something sticky-wet on subway holding bar.
Step 9: Huge line at Starbucks
Step 10: Huge line at other Starbucks
Step 11: Huge line at other, other Starbucks
Step 12: Feeling of exceptional guilt for the filthy stream of obscenities unleashed on blasé, bleached, botoxed bitch in 3/4 length fur coat and full-body sense of entitlement who knocks coffee out of hand the minute you get out of Starbucks because she can't be bothered to look where she's going while she's talking on her cell phone and believes that since someone has opened the door it must be open for her... okay, maybe I don't feel all that guilty, after all.

BuddyCrocker steals BebeMoche's third person headlines!

TiVo gone Wild!

I awoke this morning to find TiVo recording Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine starring Vincent Price and Frankie Avalon... it totally sucked me in, too.

BuddyCrocker wonders what qualifies his students as "gifted"

Once again, the morning class picked up on everything and took off flying with it. Once again, the plodding afternoon class was completely lost. They thought that my lecture on metric scansion of poetry was just me trying to play a big joke on them.

BebeMoche... Globe Trotter!

I won't see her until Sunday... wah!

My half birthday

Yeah, I've been sequestered away writing and all that so I've got no time to post. However, some of my students decided to celebrate my half-birthday and present me with a mini-epic poem written in my honor about me. Yep, they made me into a coffee-deprived, apartment-lease-renewin' world traveller. I'm amazed at their creativity and touched by the fact that they would spend the time on me. So the one and only copy will be available for in-house loan at the apartment for thems of you what wish to read it.

post MLK day regret

Looking over yesterday's blog entries, a record three in one day, it looks like the only thing I did all day was watch the tellie. I mean, how pathetic is it to blog about the frikkin' television? Is it more or less pathetic than blogging about crap blogs? Well, at least I didn't show up to the Golden Globes in that Balenciaga mess Gwenny wore.

OMG! WTF was she thinking?!?

Oh, Gwenny, Gwenny, Gwenny! Poor, poor, dear, Gwenny... How the audience gasped and stared when you walked out onto the stage! How the tabloid press will rip you to shreds tomorrow for that dress you're wearing! Apple must be shedding bitter tears to see Mommy wearing that overwrought, Edwardian nightmare... Honestly, you should have known better than to make such a lamentable choice... Poor, sad, little Gwenny!

Golden Globes tonight...

Once upon a time they were so obviously an example of sycophantic excess that those actors who did show up came with the goal of making drunken fools of themselves. Now they're treated like real awards and actually seem to be on the verge of becoming real awards. Anyhow, this true golden nugget has been washed from the red carpet: Johnny Depp first found his voice for Willie Wonka while playing Barbies with his daughter. He's got to be the coolest dad ever.

In other news, the new radiator in our apartment is so effective that, despite temperatures outside in the teens, we are hanging out in shorts and t-shirts with the window open. The situation is much improved compared to last year.

More Martha, please!

I don't have to tell you that I have a thing for Martha Stewart. I had started TiVoing her daytime show when it first launched, but stopped since after one week I couldn't stand watching another celebrity learning how to fold a shirt. Since then the BF has assured me that it's gotten better and better, but I haven't taken the time to reTiVo it. Well, today I saw an episode which has made me put Martha back on high TiVo priority. Martha had a young boy as a guest helping her bake German apple pancakes. Martha was trying to plug her kids magazine and was explaining its great animal articles. Turns out that the boy had a fascination with tigers which elicited the following from Martha: "I love big cats, I love little cats! I have eight cats living in my house and sometimes I lay in bed at night and I think, 'Omigosh! What if my cats were tigers?'" Now, had I been there I probably would have stared blankly for a few moments before telling Martha that I didn't know what to do with that. Her young guest didn't miss a beat but just replied, "Then you'd have trouble cooking meat in the kitchen."

Fires in Texas

Not to make light of a horrible situation, but why hasn't Pat Robertson noticed how pissed off God is at Texas lately? I mean, these fires are just the sort of natural disaster which Robertson sees as the hand of God at work. Why hasn't he said something?

Okay, maybe something...

I was deeply saddened by Brokeback Mountain... another Death by Hype. I mean, it was good but I saw Maurice when I was in college and so it was nothing new to me.

Believe me I want to post something!

I simply have nothing to say.

just a day

Ahh... back at work, molding little minds. The students have gotten back into the swing of things after the holidays. This will likely last for another month or so until the weather begins to warm some and spring fever sets in. From then it's all downhill and little to no work gets done. Still, at the moment things are looking good for the most part. I'm always amazed at how my classes divide. I usually have two classes of the same grade level and without fail there will be one which is slightly better than the other. Today I had an exceptional example. As I went over the class' translation of a love poem the first class was sharp, involved, they got the imagery and the sexual innuendo and they totally handled it like intellectually curious and mature adults. Then when it was the second class' turn they were nearly dead during most of the translation. When we got to the sexual imagery I had to overexplain it and those who got the innuendo couldn't control themselves while those who still didn't get it were frustrated and indignant. I felt like I was watching a bunch of drunken frat boys hooting on the "performers" at Scores. The gap between the two is at times astonishing.

And we're back...

Happy New Year everyone! I've been away, though I have been back for the past week. Re-entry into work has been hard-core but has been accomplished at long last. Now my blogorrhea can return as well!