042420

untangling the kids
when school lets out
whose head is this

031920b

Third grade field trip to the surface.

"People used to live here?"

Pointing up. "People used to live there."

101019d

K-12 teachers in Alabama! Get a free copy (for your school) of the book that explains the geologic history of the state. Profusely illustrated, and aimed at high school students and above, this book is one of the best ever written about the geology of any state. The first edition sold out long ago, which is a good thing, because the second edition is even better. That's the one you will get if you follow the directions below, which are very very simple.

092419

flunked for cheating

his second head whispered

answers in his ear

101817b

so the student passed his defense. Everyone is happy. Tomorrow when he realizes he has nine days to make more than 500 corrections to his dissertation he may not be quite so happy.

On my way back over here I thought of two very funny jokes to inflict on you all.

Funny with the ha ha
that's what it was
I had no way to make a note
the greatest joke ever
but now it's gone
I just have to hope
it wasn't as funny
as the way I remember it

091717c

until the next
grad student studies your thing
you are the expert

091117b

light breeze and cloudy
so the schools are closed
later it might rain

090317

The Tooth

Gail ran her finger along the edge of the huge tooth she'd found. It was serrated, very sharp, and somewhat flattened. A drop of blood welled up. She absently sucked her finger as she walked. When she got to school it was almost time for the bell. While taking the steps two at a time she thought she saw bones under a privet bush. Big bones.

Gail tried to focus on math, but her hand kept slipping into her pocket to stroke the giant tooth. She imagined a saber tooth tiger prowling around the building, growling softly when it saw students misbehaving.

"Gail!" From the tone of Ms. Horton's voice, this must be at least the second time she had tried to get Gail's attention.

"Yes ma'am," Gail said.

"The problem on the board, young lady, has proven intractable. Why don't you show us your solution."

Gail had no clue. What would a saber tooth tiger do? She bared her teeth and stroked the tooth in her pocket. She stumbled through the problem until Ms. Horton finally let her sit down. Saber tooths are ambush predators. They bide their time and strike when they are ready.

All day she saw images of cats: taped to the wall, projected on screens, in patterns of cracks in the tiles. Finally, school let out. Outside, she looked under the privet, but didn't see any bones. Joselle Simpson looked at her funny.

"What you got under there?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Lame. A sabertooth would have twitched its tail and yawned, showing its huge teeth. Joselle would have wet her pants.

"What you smiling at? I ain't funny!"

Gail just smiled again, and headed home. On the way, she had this feeling. A feeling that something was following her. Not a creepy guy in a dirty raincoat. More like a saber tooth, padding with silent deliberation. She didn't see anything, but you wouldn't, would you?

When she got to her block, she looked warily for Butch. He was a pit bull-something-or-other mix and he was mean. Mr. Logan had promised to keep the dog chained up, but he forgot about half the time. Sure enough, there was Butch, trotting straight towards her. She was too far from her house. Gail stood still, hands wrapped around her chest. Then she put one in her pocket. She grasped the tooth, felt it draw blood. She glared at Butch, who skidded to a stop, yipped like he'd been kicked, and ran back home. Gail smiled, showing all her teeth.

Publ. Daily Cabal 2010

061917

Catch a Slug!

Fillmore was stuck again, and the slug was due any minute. Stupid dog! Elle pulled on her boots and gloves and stepped off the curb, squelching into a good 10 cm of slime. Stepping carefully, she made her way out to where the beagle was completely plastered with mucus. Elle suppressed a shudder. How could this be better than diesel? (Whatever that was.) This was why she usually walked to school on the pedarch. She heard the slug's horn sound two short blasts. It was a block away.

"Come on, dummy," she said, reaching for Fillmore's collar. How could he hang his head and squirm away at the same time? The collar slipped out of her hand. Fillmore turned over to expose his belly. He knew she was angry. "It's ok," she shouted, "just come on!" Elle grabbed the collar again and dragged him to his feet. A loud "WHOOT!" blasted from the air horn on top of the slug's head. Fillmore gave a panicked lunge and Elle bellyflopped into the goop. The slug was braking, but sliding right for her, slime making a bow wave half a meter high at its front. She shut her eyes and mouth, curled into a ball. Imagine doing this for fun, like some gangbangers did.

She was airborne.

--

Somebody was washing her face. "Enough, already!" She put up her hands and pain shot through her left elbow. She screamed.

"Get that dog away from her," someone said.

Elle opened her eyes. She was lying on her back, ringed by strangers, thoroughly slimed. Fillmore was howling somewhere nearby. Her arm was broken. "Leggo my dog," she mumbled. A moment later Fill was nosing and licking her face. He bumped her left arm and her vision went out for a moment.

--

Or so it seemed, but when she opened her eyes again she was clean, in a hospital bed, and a cast covered most of her arm. Her mother stared at her from an armchair in front of the window. She took a deep breath.

Elle winced.

"What were you thinking, young lady?" Mother began. Ma probably meant well, but she didn't stop. Finally, Elle couldn't take any more.

"Ma! I wanted to get in the Rollers. It's part of the initiation. You know, slime rolling? Now I just have to get the tats." She pointed at her chest. "What do you think—a bug-eyed purple monster right here? It would match my thong beach suit."

As a way to shut her mother up this was spectacularly unsuccessful.

052017b

https://3610520.wixsite.com/theclassroomtimes/single-post/2017/05/19/Jagger-Arrested-Because-Of-Alleged-Little-Bite-Smuggling

So a friend of mine has a kid, who made this humorous web site. I think it's funny. Check it out.

010617

Today it might snow a little bit
heaven forfend! Let's cancel school
don't go to work
stay home and laze
reread science-fiction classics
do those chores you
blew off last night
but don't go sledding
or make snowfolk
it didn't snow at all

another tale of Bad Roberta

Told to my 2-year-old, because she asked for another.

Bad Roberta Goes to School

Once upon a time, not so far away and only a few years ago, there lived a little girl about your age. Her name was Roberta, but everyone called her Bad Roberta, because she was so very bad.

Bad Roberta was so bad that her parents wanted her to go to school early, so they wouldn't have to have her around the house. They sent her to a private kindergarten when she was four years old.

The first day of school, Bad Roberta showed up in a brand new white dress, with a new backpack, paper, pencils, ruler, and all the other stuff you need in kindergarten. All of the students went in to the classroom, and the teacher wasn't there yet. Bad Roberta put some tacks on the teacher's chair. Then she started shooting rubber bands at the other kids, and hitting them with chalk-filled erasers. The whole class was in an uproar, shouting and screaming and running and hitting, when the teacher came in.

"Oh no," she said to herself, "this is going to be an AWFUL class!" 

She finally got the class quieted down, and began to call the roll. 

Everything went well until she got to Bad Roberta.

"And what is your name, little girl?" the teacher asked.

"Won't tell," said Bad Roberta.

"But you have to tell me," the teacher replied, trying to reason with her.

"Won't," said Bad Roberta. The teacher argued with Bad Roberta, but Bad Roberta simply WOULD NOT TELL.

"In that case, young lady, you are going to the principal's office!"

"Ooooooooooooo!!" gasped all the other kids.

Bad Roberta said "Won't!"

Finally, the teacher had to pick Bad Roberta up and carry her to the principal's office. When the teacher got back to her class, it was lunchtime. The whole morning had been wasted.

Meanwhile, Bad Roberta was waiting in the principal's office for the principal to come talk to her. She opened the middle desk drawer and found it full of pencils, paper clips, and stuff like that. She took everything out and dumped it in the trash can. The principal had a coffee maker in her office, and the pot was full of coffee. Bad Roberta poured the coffee in the trash can too, then put the pot back on the hot burner. The principal was still not back. Bad Roberta darted out of the principal's office, across the main office, and out into the hall. Lunchtime was over and the hall was full of kids.

"Stop, you bad girl," shouted the secretary as Bad Roberta ran past, but Bad Roberta did not stop. The secretary jumped up and chased her, but Bad Roberta dashed into the crowd and the secretary could not see her.

Just then, the principal returned to the office. "A bad little girl was in your office waiting for you to talk to her," said the secretary, "but she just ran out and I couldn't catch her."

"I'll find her," said the principal, but she couldn't. She enlisted the help of both janitors, the special-ed. teacher, the gifted teacher, two of the cooks, and six parent volunteers. They looked everywhere but could not find any trace of Bad Roberta. The bell rang. The school day was over, but still they had not found Bad Roberta.

All this time, the secretary had been checking the lists of students, and calling the parents of all the students who had not answered roll call, trying to find out who the lost girl was. Now she came out of the office and spoke to the principal. "Her name is Roberta," the secretary said, "and her father was not surprised that we had trouble with her. He is on his way over here."

So the principal went into her office to wait, and discovered the mess in her trash can. She also saw the coffee maker. She picked up the pot and it shattered into a thousand pieces. She turned the coffee maker off and went out to the parking lot. Bad Roberta's father was just pulling up to the curb in front of the school.

"I'm really sorry," he began, but the principal cut him off.

"When we find your daughter," she said in a grim voice, "you will take her home with you, and you will never bring her back here again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Bad Roberta's father.

 

Just then, Bad Roberta ran out of the school and jumped into the car. 

"I'm ready to go home," she said, "but I'm really looking forward to my second day of school." She smiled sweetly at the teacher, who was glaring and rubbing her backside, and at the principal.

092216

do kids still stick gum
on the undersides of desks?
stubbing out blunts

the rare post about life chez human

This seems to be the season of no news (is it also the season of good news?). The House GOP delegation decided that Al Qaeda wasn't destroying our country fast enough, so they offered to take over the job. Middle-school-art-teacher Spouse likes her students, but one student who seemed in serious trouble last week was back in school on Friday. He threatened to attack another student with a hacksaw, while waving the hacksaw. That's only slightly more threatening than threatening to attack another student with a noodle while waving the noodle. But it's a wee-pon fer crissake! We finally may have a customer for our yellow watermelons. The story so far: volunteer watermelons grew past fry size for the first time in more than 20 years. Big! Beautiful! Plenteous! Yellow as a pale yellow...lemon! Unfortunately, this led to the realization that we don't like yellow watermelons. Neither do most of our friends. One friend had never tried yellow watermelons, and was willing to do so. If he likes them, he gets the rest! I have continued to work on the crustacean trace fossil paper. We do not yet have a complete first draft, and we still don't have a smoking gun...er, shrimp, but we have Venerable Shrimpologist on the case. Worst-case scenario: he confirms our belief that No One Knows! It rained hard long enough to puddle yards & drench cripples [me]. Alas, a day later weed roots are dry as old bones: there ain't no justice! Sadie, Spouse's new dog, likes to toss things around if we go away and don't lock her up. I would always do so, but Spouse-who-trusts-too-much doesn't feel that way. The only thing she has actually eaten that I know of is a plastic grated cheese jar. Biggest news: daughter #1 used TeamViewer to fix Spouse's computer remotely from Finland. This ain't yer Gramma's future. So where's my friggin' jetpack!?