RDCanecutter

Monger puts out a Figurelli vibe.

He seems to concentrate on a "closeted person did ____" type of story. Kinda like Torquemada going after the Conversos.

I have it on good authority that all Surlsters have come to the idea that moving to Colorado will solve all woes. Who are you and what did you do to GenXer?

TLDR: This was a story from a while back. Preacher had private trans persona and liked to write fan fic involving locals. Reporter Craig Monger found out and published article on him, preacher committed suicide. Monger's employer, 1819 News, which appears to exist to supply stories to talk radio programs, lost some advertisers. Monger is still on staff, when not puffing out his huge neck to attract mates.

Dude, I did commit.

In 2012, Cox had pleaded guilty to misdemeanor harassment charges after a woman claimed he said he would “make her so horny that she would wet her pants.”

Just make sandals with socks for the German elephants. They'll fit right in.

Not too bad. Only 545 last night, went down to 450. I think I'm dead already and don't know it like in 6th Sense. 345 this morning, Swung by oncologist and they jacked me up with 4 units of insulin before Zapping. Zapping took maybe 15 minutes, then I swung by to get my brain-swell vomit pills as well as a drug that treats high sugar. The main thing is I am OFF the Dexamethasone which was 50% of the reason I flipped diabetic, the other half being the tumor in my thalamus. And OK maybe I shoulda skipped that cookie. Got a new Day of the Dead mask to work on. As for other effects, I don't seem seem seem ghersgh seem to be problem have:;"'.

It's like she followed me around for four years.

Last night I stabbed myself several times with the glucose meter while yelling made-up Japanese words like a samurai. Numbers were High As Fuck, though trending down. Stalked my doc's home phone through one of those people-finder sites, she was cool about it, said it's steroids and will go away soon, but if I wanted to I should maybe stop by a Doc-in-the-Box. So I did, every one was closed, and I got home by memory because my vision blurred. I said hell no to emergency rooms because I could see getting trapped in one until my numbers went down, and I would would miss my radiation party day today. Big mistake, because I woke up dead. No, wait. Nice morning of water and non-carb food, soon to be followed by a 2-mile stroll. I'll test the glucose again after that, then we enter into Zapping World.

[Just ate shrimp last night, waiting.]

Yep. With a good solid class, you can build up a level of group knowledge, where when the inevitable questions from last week's work crop up, instead of having to stop the whole class for the Authority Figure to backtrack, their classmates can set them straight in a couple of minutes. There's an art to figuring out how to pair the students up in small groups, but when it runs, it runs well. And if your slower kids are caught up, you can share some deeper insights into the material, get away from zombie worksheets and such. On the other hand, a small class where people miss a lot is just broken. Turns into tutoring sessions for the ones who do show. Hell, I'll tutor. I'd rather teach them all.

Remember to retain enough Mercury Dimes to barter with, which we will need in a future Thunder Dome world, I am told. Never mind that 95% of Americans now don't know what a Mercury Dime is.

Didn't bother me any. The faux-diabetes will probably pass away after the zapping and dropping the steroids. I am not a big fat person. Unless that is what you're hiring. I didn't know my sugar was high until they called me while I was chewing on the bread. That chunk of bread was bad news. Way too dense. Seriously, this is what happened to the knife:

You skipped the essential bank link.

So you mean the Texians were winning, but then George and Jesus led an unstoppable bayonet charge screaming "Viva Santa Anna!"?

Hey, since AI can and will do everything we used to have to study for, what do y'all think about just redefining college away from anything practical, just a social class bump where 19-year-olds can mingle and share a tribal identity? I'd still include a few courses just so they have to try to function after closing the bar. My choices are Latin, Fencing, and Horseback Riding. Discuss.

That sucks. Fuck those bastards.

Hey, I may be ignunt, but I'm damn good-lookin.

Oh, and apparently this Dexamethasone they gave me to keep the tumor from dropping me in a conniption fit, plus the tumor itself, have leaned onto my body to make me a fully-functional diabetic in the past few days. I got this news while I was sitting out on the deck scarfing down a huge slice of home-made bread. I pitched it over the garage, maybe into our neighbor's back yard. Cole slaw, meat, fish and water, and maybe a nice glucometer from the drug store after I exercise my diabetic ass off walking there.

Something you do for one, you have to do for the next thousand who ask. Another thing a rookie teacher will learn is that students you helped will Stab You In The Back by telling other professors or admin, often in an aggressive way, that you bent a rule so why won't they. Wormy little fuckers. I did allow one student from my French class to disappear with full credit, because she was going to France for a month with her mom and daughter after her husband had moved in with his mistress. It was Mexico, and I felt that she needed a break. Veterans, especially combat veterans get extra slack in my classes. They seldom need it, but if they do, screw the rules. Also, I think every SLO (Student Learning Outcome) I ever wrote has been an obvious fake. But they all made Admin happy.

They're cheating the fuck away no matter what, giving one exam just makes it easy. Check into Chegg, it's full of everybody's tests. Mrs. Canecutter uses a program that spits out similar chemistry problems but they all have different variables. She dances on their academic graves when they copy answers from the wrong test. Once, early in my first Hell Job (teaching 9th graders with no training) I laid a whammy on their cheating ways. I gave them a multiple-choice test that appeared to be two versions- one had a cartoon dog at the top, the other had a cartoon flower. There were actually 4 versions that I had collated so when I handed them out, nobody had the same version as anybody near them. All answers were similar length. Told em not to copy. BWAHAHAHAHAH Got back A's, B's, and a shit-load of low F's. "Why did I get it wrong when Derek got it right?" "You had two different answers. Let's go over why this answer was the one." Did the same thing a couple of times more until they learned that Mr. Canecutter was evil and crazy. Then I would just make one version, but with 4 different pictures at the top. Maybe somebody clued in. But that's OK, they were thinking.

Got me an appointment with the brain zapper tomorrow. I am ready to go, I'd push the button myself if I could. Bolt me in, fire up the Saturn V. In more mundane activities, I got some free pills from CVS this morning. I always have them print out that long receipt full of Confederate money, and I hit a lucky streak and won 10 free Payday fun-size bars at not even a one cent cost to me. So I gave half of them to the pharmacy crew. You never know if they can hit that thing just right to make it happen again.

I did that with a couple of third-year language classes. If you are going to make Spanish boring, I'll just go study Arabic on my own in the library. My worst case was some Spanish Lit class taught by a Cuban Gentleman who'd been knocked down in the world getting away from Castro. I actually liked the dude, but it was early in the morning, the room was cold, the girls were unattractive, and we just took down notes and I didn't fucking FEEL like it, OK? So I disappeared. Dude thought I had died when I showed up for the Midterm. There was no attendance policy, I had checked. I had done a color-coded study guide that let me ace it. Next class, even though I made an A, he informed me that he couldn't give me better than a B when all these soggy dumbasses (my words not his) had been dragging in regularly. IDReallyGAF, B's get degrees, and I had busted the code. So I dragged in a few more times, all about respect yo. Maybe got a B after all. But I asked myself, Señor Cubanismo de Habana, I show up for you, doing an excellent imitation of how Cubans do School, and you're gonna go all Anglo-Saxon on me? I wake up screamin like I'm back over there.