What the fuck is going on with people my age? I waste my fucking time all day at a goddamn "professional development day," only to get more annoyed than usual.
There's not that much difference between my birth year and yours, but while I force myself to learn effective new tools, you somehow feel empowered to wonder aloud at "kids these days?"
Fuck you!
Sure, I would also rather talk face to face than send a text message, but what if the fucking object of my intended discussion is otherwise busy or, and gee, I'm just fucking spit ballin' here, but living three fucking states away?
Gettin' a clue here, Mr. Professional?
And then you fucking segue to showing me how to use an insipid web-chat that allows YOU to tell the world (of your other stupid fucking friends) that you are, in reality, "working" on other stuff now, but would otherwise really, really like to chat?
Motherfucker! Who dressed you this morning? Basking in your own cleverness would have surely sent you out the house in plaid pants and a striped shirt if not for the non-fauxcilogist member of your family watching out after you!
And stop laughing, and fucking loudly, at your own fucking jokes! Mommy may have mistaken your annoying quirks as cute and precocious, but you're an asshole!
Fuck you! I know I'm an asshole, but I, for one, am not hiding it!
(Oh, and your cheap-o coffee has rendered me foully emissive. Thanks.)
We should all visit about professional development days. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I too teach at an institute of higher learning and getting shit on there is getting really old.
And the problem with higher ed? That is a blog within itself.
Oh yeah and it isn't a desk and a computer and a projector anymore--it is a fucking teaching center? A fucking teaching center? Not a desk but a teaching center?
3: Put the following code whereever you want it in the section of your web page:Note: if you want to change the colors you'll need to edit the styles inside the
6 comments:
I came in at 1.3 percent. Darnit!!!
Damn thing's broken. Doghouse scored a "0" fer crissakes!
As long as Ann taunts me to inject...
What the fuck is going on with people my age? I waste my fucking time all day at a goddamn "professional development day," only to get more annoyed than usual.
There's not that much difference between my birth year and yours, but while I force myself to learn effective new tools, you somehow feel empowered to wonder aloud at "kids these days?"
Fuck you!
Sure, I would also rather talk face to face than send a text message, but what if the fucking object of my intended discussion is otherwise busy or, and gee, I'm just fucking spit ballin' here, but living three fucking states away?
Gettin' a clue here, Mr. Professional?
And then you fucking segue to showing me how to use an insipid web-chat that allows YOU to tell the world (of your other stupid fucking friends) that you are, in reality, "working" on other stuff now, but would otherwise really, really like to chat?
Motherfucker! Who dressed you this morning? Basking in your own cleverness would have surely sent you out the house in plaid pants and a striped shirt if not for the non-fauxcilogist member of your family watching out after you!
And stop laughing, and fucking loudly, at your own fucking jokes!
Mommy may have mistaken your annoying quirks as cute and precocious, but you're an asshole!
Fuck you! I know I'm an asshole, but I, for one, am not hiding it!
(Oh, and your cheap-o coffee has rendered me foully emissive. Thanks.)
{Asshole}
There! That's much better - thanks heydave!
We should all visit about professional development days. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I too teach at an institute of higher learning and getting shit on there is getting really old.
And the problem with higher ed? That is a blog within itself.
Oh yeah and it isn't a desk and a computer and a projector anymore--it is a fucking teaching center? A fucking teaching center? Not a desk but a teaching center?
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