Mister Mister

I had my own DYKWTFIA moment the other day and frankly to throw in a movie line "I'm too old for this shit".



It was bound to happen and perhaps a few of you academically inclined people out there who stand in front of students giving your knowledge on a subject of choice, could tell me the right way of going about this:

The college I attend online suggest a website called Noodlebib to record all citations and give the wonderful people who teach us about the Nodes of Ranvier, Myelin sheath, and Schwann cells credit for their knowledge much like a picture on a blog.  For my first year I ran into zero problems using the site and getting credit for doing so.

Enter the crabby professor.

Yes, he had a bio page at least a page long that was filled with books released, academic titles unknown to myself and 99.9% of the world, awards, created cold fusion, and probably got a blowjob from Raquel Welsh in London during his wild and crazy days at Oxford while on a Fulbright scholarship.  Bravo.  *golf clap*

Yes, you win the prize sir

.


For the first five weeks of this class I get papers returned saying "not in APA format" as the only deduction in my grade.  In other words, the paper was fine but because I didn't use 13.75 Wing-Dings font and 5.29" indentations while using a school recommended website, I lost points.

I do not like this.  Again, 12 classes taken, zero problems.

So I type a quick email asking if he could point out the errors of the program so I appease his anal retentive ass.  I may have used other words after all this is a Professional Communications class.  I get the reply:

"I did not tell you to use Noodlebib, you are responsible for knowing how to use citations in APA format" signed MR. Johnson (bolded on the email as in DYKWTFIA!?!?).

Frankly, I don't care about the nit-picking (and I MAY have replied with his own assignment directions to use Noodlebib putting it in quotes, I heart pointing out things like that) and its bad because even in the corrected copy even he did not cite correctly, that's besides the point.  The point is the MR part as I started the email using his first name.  This is not high school, I pay to go to college, I am 36 years old and the last time I referred to a male as mister it was accepting my baseball letter from Osseo High School from Mr. Anderson (I think that was the coach's name) about 18 years ago as a 130 pound waif of a senior with a live arm, bad skin, and no self-respect.  For you professor and teacher types out there, and well anyone who enjoys "status", do you require or want to be called Ms. Mrs. Mr.? 

Now I have a big exception for Doctor, you earned that and fully deserve that in front of your name even after you're unable to solve the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune with all the letters turned over.  Mister is a title you get for having a dick or in this case being one, I suppose some doctors are dicks but they were not born with knowledge of the body and earned the title through a mountain of student loans, long study nights, and ramen noodles.

The question I have for the 20 or so people who probably know me personally, how does one respond so I don't have a big bullseye on my head for the remainder of the class?

  Do you know how popular I am?!!?!?

Heidi Montag's Tits are the Nation's Financial Problem

Kid Dynamite - Former Wall Street Trader and Vegas crusher (seriously go read ANY of his Vegas trip reports, it's a level of degeneracy I strive for myself but never get there) turned meat grinder/home garden extraordinaire packs mostly financial news with enough layman terms sprinkled in so someone like myself can understand TARPs and other news concerning our government handing out money to those who cry because they had to do away with their third Bentley.

Seriously go read, he's like a Rosetta Stone for finance. 

Anyway, there was post on someone named Paul Krugman whom I'd never heard of since my reading and media interactions are mostly poker blogs and watching Johnny Test, SpongeBob, and Literary textbooks for school.   Anyway Mr. Krugman apparently slammed people like myself who having been saving versus spending in recent years and trying to be as fiscially responsible as a good degen can be (sorry but the siren calls of Pai Gow bonus bets and Mr. Cashman slots MUST BE ANSWERED! I didn't completely neuter myself after marriage and kids).  Me and my wife both work full-time, getting up at 4:30am every day during the week and get home around 5pm, then dinner, taking the kids to swimming/dancing/skating/advanced assassin techniques for ninjas class level three then around eight or nine I start to study since I returned to school full time.  Oh, and she also works occasionally at a senior citizen function while I help out with the Sunday Majors coverage at PokerStarsBlog.  All this to pay a mortgage that is barely above water (no we did not buy "too much house" it's barely 1,400 square feet and 30 years old so take those arguments elsewhere) but on the good side our cars are paid off and we carry no credit card debt which allows us to live a little instead of going dumpster diving for half eaten ramen noodles.

The reason I mention the above was after reading a story about a chick who is more plastic than my daughter's Barbie dolls "Heidi Montag files bankruptcy after blowing $10 million".  My point isn't the money since this nation's elite need to buy rich things and do or have done something to earn that money.  It's their prerogative (ok, busting out Bobby Brown since you can't say that word without the song popping in your head)



Ah, ah, ah. THAT'S MY MY MY PREROGATIVE ... Oh welcome back.  Montag.  The whole irk behind her "financial woes" lies behind her spending something she never earned. "We thought The Hills would be like 90210" was the excuse.  Can I please punch her in one of those over-inflated tits please?  Why should semi-decent hard-working folks like myself slave over humping crappy jobs when we could be snorting coke off high priced stripper's asses at Cheetah's and playing poker with Doyle Brunson?  Just charge it, lose my house because I can't even afford the minimum payments on my 15 maxed credit cards?  Fuck you!  I'm ENTITLED to my house, you're going to throw out a family of four because I can't pay my obligations?  /internet sarcasm

I don't know when or why people in this country got to the point that don't feel responsible for their actions or even try to rectify the issue "I almost stripped for Playboy until my parents took us in!" says Montag.  Well, I don't have DDs or a vagina for that matter, so my chances of doing something on a similar last-ditch effort are slim to none, can't even spooge in a cup for cash since not producing another child we can't afford seemed responsible.

Responsiblity has a price, if a little sanity is the cost, I'm ok with paying it so I can look at myself in the mirror in the morning and only hate the fact that I root for a football team which enjoys torturing its fans year after disappointing year. 

34 days.