Dear Shit Swamp Authors
You almost had me. You almost made me feel sorry today. I almost gave into your pressure to push back the Argumentative Synthesis Rough Draft Due Date three days. You won my heart with the request for more in-class work time. I almost believed that you cared about your papers. But then...
Then, during lecture and your whined-for in-class work time, I saw screens--screens with terrible, miscellaneous images not offered on D2L. I saw screens prompting you to "Poke Her!" and screens with live camera feeds of not only our classroom but others, and the gym with pretty girls on treadmills (this I understand), and--for some reason--feeds to the ACC and all the adventure it offers. I saw other screens that advertised cute shoes and scarves, daily "hilarious vids", and forums--so many forums and so many forum goons.
You almost had me. Each set of misting eyes and each quivering bottom lip and soft-puttered, "Pppplease?" almost took the cup. But your screens triggered to fester something in me, something that made you question, "Why're you so crabby today?" You still didn't get it when I replied, "Facebook." Some kept clicking, kept poking.
The oddest thing, O spewers of shit swamps, is that your inspirator who caused the fire in you is arguably the best among you, your champine. Yes, she's got a 'tude on her--which has even turned into a cute, fitting nickname, Tude. But you, O malicious spark, wouldn't EVER need an extension. You're too good. Then why ask? Why ask when you don't need it. You weren't even abusing in-class work time. It must be charity.
That's the kicker. The irony. Your charity almost gathered the arms, strawed my back; but the one's who would've benefited most from your fruit, the ones who'd need an extension, are the facefuckbooking ingrates that ultimately ruined it for themselves. I would have done it for you, Tude, and the heaping handful of others that would deserve an extension.
But, dear students: too fucking bad. How's that for 'tude?
I'll trust you with ownership of content and scheduling when you stop poking and start blogging.
Then, during lecture and your whined-for in-class work time, I saw screens--screens with terrible, miscellaneous images not offered on D2L. I saw screens prompting you to "Poke Her!" and screens with live camera feeds of not only our classroom but others, and the gym with pretty girls on treadmills (this I understand), and--for some reason--feeds to the ACC and all the adventure it offers. I saw other screens that advertised cute shoes and scarves, daily "hilarious vids", and forums--so many forums and so many forum goons.
You almost had me. Each set of misting eyes and each quivering bottom lip and soft-puttered, "Pppplease?" almost took the cup. But your screens triggered to fester something in me, something that made you question, "Why're you so crabby today?" You still didn't get it when I replied, "Facebook." Some kept clicking, kept poking.
The oddest thing, O spewers of shit swamps, is that your inspirator who caused the fire in you is arguably the best among you, your champine. Yes, she's got a 'tude on her--which has even turned into a cute, fitting nickname, Tude. But you, O malicious spark, wouldn't EVER need an extension. You're too good. Then why ask? Why ask when you don't need it. You weren't even abusing in-class work time. It must be charity.
That's the kicker. The irony. Your charity almost gathered the arms, strawed my back; but the one's who would've benefited most from your fruit, the ones who'd need an extension, are the facefuckbooking ingrates that ultimately ruined it for themselves. I would have done it for you, Tude, and the heaping handful of others that would deserve an extension.
But, dear students: too fucking bad. How's that for 'tude?
I'll trust you with ownership of content and scheduling when you stop poking and start blogging.
1 Comments:
At 7:16 PM, Jessica said…
Yes... I have also learned that in-class-time-please-extend-the-due-date means my-instructor-is-a-sucka.
Enjoy the Fuller?
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