My Name Is, Uh, Señor Greenwood, and I’ll Be Your Substitute Teacher Today
Now, I should say that I don’t speak Spanish, but I do speak un poquito Spanish. Is that bueno with everyone?
Now, I should say that I don’t speak Spanish, but I do speak un poquito Spanish. Is that bueno with everyone?
You must create a class that can be started online, moved to in-person, then back online, all simultaneously. You have the weekend to figure it out.
Watch “Multiplication, Division, and YOU!” There is no link, so you, a third-grader, will need to do a Google video search and hope for the best.
AT A PASTRY SHOP: “While I do appreciate this lemon meringue pie—it’s very sweet, which is fun for a dessert if that’s what you’re going for."
What could be more healthy than taking a spelling test while boulders—such as the one that just flattened Senator Constantine—fall from the sky?
How many of you have dogs who display selective aggression towards people of races other than your own? Everyone again. Frustrating, isn’t it?
Blathering on about one’s own dream is one of life’s greatest pleasures, a kind of psychological masturbation that satisfies our basest desire.
We're only a few weeks into our "Modern World: January to December 2020" AP course and holy shit is it kicking our asses.
Redirect the Attention. Infiltrate the Distraction. And Proceed as if Nothing Has Happened. Together, they form a useful pneumonic: RIP.
The basis upon which I have lived my entire life is jeopardized—and all because of a trust fall with the ghost of Sir Isaac Newton.
That mix of fear and resentment swirling in your gut? That’s how every icebreaker exercise should feel. You want your group to absolutely hate it.
Should you fall ill, the university has shored up our reserve of adjuncts. They will easily be able to take on your classes in an emergency.