Archive for the 'Professor Speaks' Category

Late Because Not My Fault

The professor is a patient person.

Usually.

Sometimes, I’m not, and that’s when I riot. #riotingisfun

160209115236-24-mong-kok-riot-0209-exlarge-169

A picture of me after rioting.

But, anyways and some, I pushed the elevator button, because I had to go up, after all.

Just up a floor, mind.

And I had to get there within three minutes. Not a problem.

Sadly, that’s when it all went south, like a buffalo running down a hill who loses control and starts to tumble.

jumpingbuffalo-yellowstonenationalp

You see, that’s when the hallway became packed with so many people, I feared–the sudden–for my oxygen supply.

Then there was a ding, and the elevator opened.

It was going down, not up.

“Dadblameit!” I cussed.

“That’s not going to help anything,” a girl next to me, who was also waiting, said.

“What’s not?”

“Cursing. It’s not how you should live your life.”

“But you’re as wrong as wrong can get, because I’m always right. It definitely helps. After all, Mark Twain and John Wayne said it does, and they can’t possibly be wrong.”

This is the first thing John Wayne said to me when I met him back in the day.

This is the first thing John Wayne said to me when I met him back in the day.

She raised an eyebrow.

The elevator came again.

And success!

It was going up.

But, rats and a heifer, there was no room.

That’s when the professor glanced at his watch.

Just thirty seconds now.

I ran to the stairs.

And wonders of wonders, can you believe when I arrived at the correct floor, the door to access that floor was handle-less?! No handle. No way to get it.

What made it even worse was the fact that I could see the place where I needed to be through the window.

The professor just couldn’t get there.

So…I rioted.

Riot mode.

Riot mode.

The professor busted down the door with inhuman strength, charged into the nearest room, grabbed the nearest employee, and dragged him back to the door.

“What is wrong with your building, hmm, dadblameit?! Elevator service is awfully awful and there’s no handles on your doors! What is this? A giggle-joke?!”

“I’ll fix it right away, sir!” the fellow said nervously as he shook brutally.

“You better,” I said, relaxing. “Now you’ve gone and made me late.”

“I’ll make it up to you!” He was on his knees know, begging. “Please don’t hurt me!”

The professor raised an eyebrow. “A free lunch? That’s what I require.”

“Yes!! You got it!”

Double-dadblameit. That sounded so good, too.

That’s how I did it in my mind, see.

In reality, I stood there, staring through the door for a good ten minutes, before I decided to try to find another way in.

The professor was late, and there was nothing a soul, or ghost, could do about it.

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Classroom Mayhem

“So…”–gigantic, and I mean huge, pause for emphasis here–“how do we know what we know?”

The question hung in the air, and this professor, for one, would’ve left it hanging there (probably indefinitely) but an elderly chap sitting next to me raised his hand and spoke up.

He said something full of dadblamery, so I had to raise my hand and say:

“We know what we know because we know it.”

A just answer. Maybe a bit oblique, but then again, so was the question. I leaned back like a conqueror, thinking that I had won, and that it was over.

But a war was coming.

The chap teaching the class shook his head.

“No, no, you can’t answer that way,” he said. “They were the words I used in my question.”

“Quite right,” I said, “that’s why I rearranged them for my answer.”

“No.” He was a bit stern here, I must admit. Hands on hips, chin jutting out in my direction like a stag beetle with it’s great big jaws. “You don’t get it.”

Stag Beetle with its awesome jaws.

Stag Beetle with its awesome jaws.

“Oh I get it.”

Of course, this professor didn’t mean to be spicy at all, but the other students laughed here a bit, bits, and little bits.

“You. Don’t. Get It,” he repeated. “I want you to use your own words to answer the question.”

And then this professor spied something on his shoulder, and I knew I’d won.

“They became my own words once I rearranged them, see. And furthermore, double see, is that a hornet on your shoulder?”

He screamed, everyone laughed, and this professor–shiny, cunning beast that he is–won.

#conqueror 

In a Coffee Shop

professor speaksSo, yes, this professor went in one.

Just because, mind you.

I wanted a tea.

Some sort of green tea, in fact.

Coffee places should have such things, I reasoned. After all, what’s the difference between tea and coffee, I further reasoned. One is a leaf, the other is a bean.

Very close.

They practically look like twins.

They practically look like twins.

Anyways, walked through the front door, I did.

No, I’m not trying to be like Yoda.

4755912-3856316775-38217

Who actually, interestingly enough, now that you brought it up, blamed this Jedi Temple massacre on the dangerous blue lightsaber, instead of the Sith behind it.

Not to say Sith are bad.

plur2wc

Anyways and some more…where wuth I?

Oh yes, so I went in the store.

“Hello there,” I said.

I got in line, see.

And since I made it through the door before the stampede, I was first in line.

#Win

“What’ll you have?”

“Some sort of tea, I think.”

There was a pause times a half a pause.

“Yes…?” she prompted.

“What kind do you have?”

Rude gesture: Her thumb went up to the menu behind her.

“No good,” I said, “too confusing, see. What sorts of green tea do you have?”

“We’re a coffee place.”

“But aren’t coffee and tea related?”

She made a face. “Who told you that?”

“Some close relative, now that I think on it.”

“The point is that’s ridiculous.”

“That you don’t have green tea?”

She sighed. “I never said that. But since we’re a coffee house, we only have one type of green tea. Would you like it?”

“What sort of green tea is it?”

“It’s green tea.”

“Yes, but you said it was a type.”

A few exasperated sighs here. “Yes, that’s right, it’s a certain kind of green tea. There’s different kinds.”

“What kind do you have?”

That got her real cranky.

“Look, do you want it or not?”

“You know what, I think I’ll pass.”

And I left.

I just wasn’t feeling it.

Moral: Know what you want before you ask for it.

Aw. Gee. Thank you. Compliments are welcome, no matter who from!

Aw. Gee. Thank you. Compliments are always welcome, no matter what the sort!

Oranges are orange; Yellows are…

professor speaks

Okay.

So, there’s this problem, see.

And I can’t understand it for the life of me, double-see.

You must help me out, PF.

Here it is.

I present to you the color orange:

images

And, here’s an orange:

tumblr_lfpoa8GIdg1qc700b

Further, I present the color yellow:

images-1

Lemon-Whole-Split

And that, my fellows, right up there, is a yellow, right? No!

See, it’s a lemon not a yellow.

Where’s the sense in that, I ask?

Where?!

It leaves me bewildered and confused, in truth.

What will aliens think when they get to earth and learn of such things?

Dadblameit.

Why Conor McGregor is like Tom Brady

professor speaks

Okay.

So, this professor just thought he should say a few words about it.

Not that it matters much one way or another.

But this fellow:

011316-ufc-Conor-McGregor-pi-mp.vresize.1200.675.high.25

Conor McGregor

Has something very interesting in common with this fellow:

what-s-at-stake-for-tom-brady-and-the-patriots-in-the-afc-championship-game

Tom Brady (with blurry background)

You see, both fellows bucked authority and fought the bad guys. McGregor, the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) and Dana White; Brady, the NFL (National Football League) and Roger Goodell.

And this is the funny part, see.

While that looks grand and all that, here’s the thing: It’s all a setup.

In truth, that’s true

The NFL created deflategate for publicity; McGregor said he was going to retire for publicity. See, and many sees, it had nothing to do with the fact that footballs were deflated a few PSI, and it had nothing to do with not wanting to do any more press conferences.

Which means, McGregor and Brady did not buck authority.

That’s right.

They followed authority.

Like mooses in the field.

Following authority

Following authority

So, they’re alike because they follow authority not rebel against it.

What a thing.

I did not see that conclusion coming myself.

Moral: If you’re going to buck authority, don’t do it because you’re following authority. That’s just messed up. And the professor is wise to you, too.

Okay, that’s the professor’s conspiracy theory for today.

PVJ out.


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Depends on the day, see.

Punchy Argot:

1. Dadblameit.
2. Humdinger
3. Chickit
4. Chicky-woot-woot
5. Malediction
6. Rapscallion
7. Gardoobled
8. Congratulilolations
9. Togoggin
10. Gargonic
11. Two and Five Gurgles
12. Rats and a Heifer
13. Two nods, a wink, and an astroid
14. A bit, bits, and little bits
15. Huff-Hum and a Roar
16. So many thanks, I can't begin to thank you
17. Ri-do-diculous

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