more EC follies

"A," the Canuck who's been teaching Miss SNU is, as I type this, sitting on a bench somewhere in Inchon International Airport, waiting to board his flight back to Canada. Late August signals the end of summer vacation for Korean college students, so it's quite possible that Miss SNU will, by some miracle, end up back on my schedule now that A is no longer with us. Miss SNU's return to my evil clutches isn't guaranteed unless she demands that I be her teacher, something she hasn't done so far. It'd look mighty strange for me to demand that she be my student, so there's nothing I can do about this except sit and wait. It's all in the KY-lubed hands of fate, my love.

Miss Y of the voluptuous ass (the one with East-West crossover appeal) still comes to class, but Miss DC, perhaps aware that I'm no longer charmed by her, doesn't appear on anyone's schedule these days. Maybe she's dropped out. Hmmmm. Not that I'll miss her. Much. She was pretty damn cute.

My morning teaching partner, J, the lady to whom I teach French, is stressing out. I don't know how much this has to do with me. Our Fremen-Korean manager regularly calls the Korean teachers into her office to discuss things like reenrollment rates and the (foreign) partner teachers. I'm sure I figured into the discussion somehow, but I don't know how.

I sat with a few expat teachers from both the Kangnam and Yeoksam branches of EC last night. It was a little gathering at a set of patio-style sidewalk tables in front of a convenience store to say good-bye to A, involving the usual beer, soju, and itty-bitty "yakult" (liquidy yogurt) containers to make "yogurt soju," which sounds like something ejaculated by a genetically engineered camel. The very concept is nasty as hell; prude that I am, I swigged a Coke. Conversation centered on how much EC sucks, and as you might guess, I'm not the only one offended by the lab coats. It turns out that all the teachers cite this abomination as their number one complaint (or, if not number one, it's still high on the list). It's degrading. I still don't wear mine.

In other news...

Shawn, that exhibitionist, shows off a shorn Cock.

Andi's got poetry, a shout-out, and a touching meditation in honor of one of her kittens, who recently died. Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, kittee.

It's a somewhat cryptic post, but it almost sounds as if Wooj had trouble saying good-bye to a porn stash on his hard drive.

God seems to be talking to Lorianne through chalk and graffiti lately. Through Lorianne's blog, the Almighty finally gave me advice I could use: scroll down to the final photo in this post. Strangely, the Good Lord gave Howard Stern more detailed counsel along the same lines, as chronicled in Stern's bestseller Private Parts.

My Maximum Leader (and yours) posts on Richard III and other matters.

Coming later this week: that big post Explaining Everything about religious pluralism, to counteract previous pedantry. I'm off to Osaka tomorrow.

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