Thursday, September 25, 2008
Listen, I don't expect your little cyberpalace to run like I run my place here in Texas, but shitfire, boys, you've done run the thing right off the rails. I hate to have to write this because you fellas had such a good idea about a hundred years ago. You were going to tell it like it was or something, and kick the shit out of the dusty profession. But I think y'all are just part of the problem now.
I've got a busy hunting schedule that gets in the way of my labwork at the big Uni, but I do check in online sometimes from the Campground Cafe up at Yeller Holler State Park now and again, and I have to say, YOU FUCKERS HAVE LOST THE PLOT!
This site has gone down faster than an Otis 'vator covered in gooseshit.
I can't even begin to categorize the crazziness that has engulfed you poor dumb fucks.
This batshit Bio teacher is killing urchins at an alarming rate, right? But can't he just go to PetSmart, confess his sins, take adoption of one of those hairy damn cats as penance and shut up about it? You have to give him a stage to be a dumbass?
And then the pregnant gals? Oh, it feels good to be pregnant and we're breeding a new future, and all that, but don't they have the O channel or O magazine or O website to do all this? They get asked stupid questions by 18 year old kids? Yeah, well, what other kind of question does an 18 year old have? And you don't want your belly to get in the way of things, well don't put it one of those shirts that's got a giant cartoon stork on it then. And don't wheeze about how hard it is to go up the stairs, and about how the little spawn's going to be named Tristan or Christopher Hamlet or some other such thing. Keep your damned personal life to yourself and I guarantee you that your students won't dare ask you something personal like that. (Showing the sonogram to your 9 am class is not advised.)
Oh and the cookie bakers! Yes, we have those abominations here at my school as well. The Education and English departments are full of them, lazy, insecure, wallflowers who never got laid until they were 25, so desperate for attention and desperate to be liked. I'd fire every sallow faced one of them if I had the chance, and when I get to be Dean you're going to hear about it in the Crampicle of Higher Education. (There'll be a big photo of me eating a turkey leg and smearing my face on the former tenure policy here, that's for sure.) You know what, I'm not passing out trophies or ribbons or pastries here. I'm a goddamned college professor and you should get the huevos together to do the same. You reward them for doing what they're supposed to, and you lower the bar on the class, yourself, and the whole damned profession. How do you think your little sugared-up assholes are going to feel next semester when they turn up on time to my class and I don't throw them a little party?
As for the site itself, what's with the features? You have some 28 year old wundershit there who keeps coming up with them? I like Crime Beat. That's good. Run those fucking kiddie porn profs out on a rail. Murder, mayhem. You could do that all day and not even hit half of the faculty where I teach. But what's this coolest student thing? I swear to God I'm about ready to unleash some kind of pretend virus on your little pretend compound. Jane Wiedlin? Of the Go-Go's? Is that right? Julie Stiles? What about someone with hooters. Forget Dyan Cannon; she's my ma's age. Get me someone I'd like to drive out to the lake with and someone who can nestle my sweaty head.
You're not even trying. You want to prove academic culture is bereft of reason, populated with eunuchs, and eager and greasy for a cleaning, well, you're not aiming very high. You can't swing a cat around without knocking over 14 insane, persecuted, alarmed, china-doll proffies who can't wait to get on the Crampicle forums to talk about how unappreciated they are, and how hard it is to be them. Fuck that. This page is starting to be run by those eggheads, those layabouts. Get back in charge. I always liked it best when you took a few swings at students, but then twirled around with a roundabout boot to the solar plexus of the "colleagues" who ruin the damn campus. Get 'em all, is what I'm saying. Take 'em all down. Don't let the bullshit seep into the pages, these polite and suddenly happy pages.
I can't take it. If I wasn't so medicated from last night's Tecate and burrito fest, I'd be jumping right out of my skin. Y'all gave me someone's direct line one time, but I lost it. Give me those digits again because y'all need a pep talk to get things going again.
Oh, and ditch the ads, bring back the "freakout" pink graphics, and quit trying to MAKE SO MUCH FUCKING SENSE!