Death Professor –> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhtwjHbPHkM
Hi, my name is Chris McGowan and I’m going to be guest blogger at Baby Pictures of Famous Dictators for the next three days.
Besides for Carmen’s girlfriends and Mrs. P, I am probably his most dedicated reader. I have read every single post, some of them five or six times. Not only do I love the blog, but I also have nothing else going on. Along with GeneSar’s “A Day in the Life,” BPOFD was my most reliable connection to home for the seven months that I spent in France this past year. Alone in my dorm room with my Kindle, I read Brian Tirpak’s interview every single night before I went to sleep. This is a tradition–or habit–I have been unwilling or unable to give up since my return.
The blog is great, and Carmen is brave for doing it. It’s hard to write for an audience, especially an audience composed of your friends and family. But Carmen does it and he does it well.
I can’t do what Carmen can do (starting with the fact that I cannot figure out how to upload videos or pictures onto the posts the way you are supposed to–as I’m sure you can tell), but at the very least, for the two days I will serve as guest blogger, I hope to stay true to the spirit of BPOFD. So, to start with, here is a link to an article entitled “The Ten Strangest College Mascots”: http://www.hercampus.com/life/strangest-college-mascots-part-ii
Second, I will be responsible for providing updates on Carmen’s journey. Although I have received no information from either Carmen or T on what they are doing, I feel as if I know them both well enough to make some very, very good guesses.
Today, for instance, T introduced Carmen to his impression of the Harrahs Monster. The Harrahs Monster was born this weekend after a momentary encounter with a fifty- or sixty-something year-old woman in the elevator of Harrah’s Casino in Atlantic City. Harrah’s Monster says things like: “Oh you have a blog? My son has a blog. I don’t have a son, I never had a husband. What’s a blog? Take me witchyas.” The Harrahs Monster was born in Harrah’s Casino and has spent every single moment of her life since then in the casino. She has no knowledge of anything outside the casino and gambling, and even then she possesses nothing more than a shallow understanding of the slots. Harrahs Monster has many sisters she has never met. These include Borgata Monster and the Tropicana Monster.
Despite the fact that Harrahs Monster is by far T’s best impression since Cooker Luca (who has the cooker after practice), Carmen is nevertheless sick of it after about twelve hours. Luckily, T has been holding back on his impression of Mr. Buttersworth, the butler assigned to drive me home from T’s house after we watch NBA playoff games.
OK, now a brief update on my life… Today at 6:30 AM Frank Nigro’s mom called me and asked me if I could come in to substitute teach at Toms River High School East. I agreed. I quickly went to my dad’s closet and got pants, socks, a shirt, a sweater, and a belt. I washed my face and hair in the bathroom sink, fought with my mom because I don’t use shampoo and she thinks that’s disgusting, went to the bathroom seven times because I get nervous, and arrived at HS East by 7. Today was a “testing day,” so for the first hour me and four other teachers tried to get two different DVD players and three different TVs to play Remember the Titans. Eventually we succeeded. The class of a dozen or so students watched in rapt attention. They all repeated along with the movie: “Sunshine… Suunnnssshiinneee…”, and, “Left side, Strong side!” I cried at the scenes–spoiler alert–when Julius and Bertier first become friends (the left side-strong side scene), when they win their second game of the season against an “undefeated” team, when all the players go to the hospital to visit Bertier, and when they win the State Championship at the end. I was fairly successful at hiding these tears from the students and other teachers. Then I went to my Earth Science classes. Every time it is the same… The students all walk into the class and say “Thank fuckin’ God bro…” or “Are you a substitute? YES!” It is the happiest anyone ever is to see me. Then I hand out the work and they start telling me how their teacher is “gay” and “Jewish.” All five classes told me this. One class drew me a picture. Because I don’t yell at them for this, they tell me I’m a “cool sub,” as if that means something. I tell my penguin joke. Many of them have heard it before. They no longer think I’m a cool sub. At lunch I sit in the teacher’s room and look at pictures of people’s new babies while we watch American Chopper. I talk to a woman I think I recognize but I cannot figure out how. Soon I realize that she just reminds me of the Harrahs Monster. She tells me she used to be on Broadway and “in the pictures” and that at an audition of a thousand kids she made it to the last three. I say, talking total nonsense: “Wow, but even to get that far, even just to get to the last three, in that industry, back then, as a kid, that’s crazy. That’s something to be proud of.” She agrees. Eighth period a student picks up the model solar system and pretends it is his dick. He walks around the classroom until I see him and tell him he’s going to break it. Everyone laughs. The girls put water bottles on top of their heads and then put their hair up on top of it. Another kid lies down out on the ground in protest of the work I’ve told him to do. This class LOVES the penguin joke. I tell the punchline as the final bell rings.
Anyway, as you can see, I am dying for material here. If no one gives me any suggestions for tomorrow, I will describe my seven months in France and my current job search. Then Wednesday will be a day off. Thursday I’ll review the book that I won’t have finished yet, and then Friday Carmen gets back.
We’ll get through this. It’s only a few days.