Posts Tagged 'professor speaks'

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.

Schwarz Tauptinker, The Patriots, and Please Stand Clear of the Doors

“Please stand clear of the doors,” is an interesting thing of interest.

Of this, there’s not many doubts.

(Perhaps, someone might be able to raise a doubt here, there, or over there, but I doubt it.)

Now, here’s the thing: What do you suppose is meant by such a phrase?

Not being one to jump to conclusions (I fear conclusions like I fear fat sausages) I took up the matter with Schwarz Tauptinker.

“What does it mean, that phrase?”

“Obviously,” Schwarz answered, “I’ll tell you.”

There was a pause.

“Whenever you’re ready, of course.”

“Okay.”

Another pause.

“So,” I said, starting at the beginning again, “what is meant by the phrase, “Stand clear of the doors,” do you suppose?”

“Obviously they just cleaned the glass, tell you what,” he said.

That was shocking.

“Cleaned the glass? I’m not following.”

“Yeah, cause it’s clear, dude. Stand clear of the doors. The doors are clear. And dirty glass is not clear.”

“I suspected it was some sort of code like that.”

“Not a code,” he said, somewhat miffed. “That was easy to figure out. The secret meaning, or code, is this: Don’t let the doors hit you.”

***

Anyway, that is what is said by Mr. Speaker overtime one gets on or off the T.

midland_metro_tram

So, yes, that’s nice and colorful. And looks fast, too. Mine isn’t like that at all. It’s boring and white and slow. And bumpy. And full of beetles.

So, I just had to write about it.

Also, check this out:

edelman

Go Pats! I might be able to watch that over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

We Can’t Think of a Title

professor speaks

Greetings and many dadblameits to you all.

I’m technically and literally back.

Are you wondering what the difference is between ‘technically back’ and literally back’? If so, you’re not alone.

So am I.

And that’s exactly why I threw them both in there like that. All nice and smooth.

That way, evil persons can’t say, “You meant this,” or, “What you really wanted to say is this…”

See, I mean everything when I say something. And I say everything when I mean something.

That way, all my bases are covered.

Sooooooooo…

I was away. This is a truth.

I was at a guitar camp.

Check out this rainbow...doesn't it remind you of me? Yeah...no, it doesn't remind me of me either. What's up with that?

Check out this rainbow…doesn’t it remind you of me? You know, it’s a double rainbow, like I’m a double personality… Yeah…no, it doesn’t remind me of me either. What’s up with that? Why can’t things just be agreeable?

Storm clouds!

20160802_181230

That cloud triggered me.

Trigglypuff

If you’re wondering what that means, hey, so am I. Apparently, you can get triggered by literally and practically and technically anything these days. (See what I did there? Always inclusive, mind. I forgot ‘technically’ up above. Rats and a Heifer.)

Thus, I write this to you, dear TPL fam to inform you that I’m now back. And blogging right on schedule.

Here’s a pic of me loaded down with gear. I’d just arrived. #LongDay #That’saPatsHat

20160801_114159

Oh, and the Pats will be playing soon! Get ready to ROOT. Since you all are honorary Pats fan.

*tribune salute*

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.


TPL Schedule

Sunday: OFF — Day of Shalt Nots

Monday: TPL Story

Tuesday: OFF — Because I'm Gone

Wednesday: Professor Speaks

Thursday: OFF — Because Yes

Friday: OFF — All Day Sleep Does

Saturday: OFF — Blue-Footed Boobies Need Fed

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Punchy Argot:

1. Dadblameit.
2. Humdinger
3. Chickit
4. Chicky-woot-woot
5. Malediction
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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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