Watching football today, saw the refs in their zebra outfits and thought of Footlocker. I'm thinking I might change my career path and start working at footlocker. I look great in the zebra shirt and it'd be fun to go to work with a whistle and call fouls and charges and throw flags on the customers. Just an idea I'm pondering.


Also in the process of pondering my future, I've thought about my kids. They don't exist yet, but will someday. I'd like to be an open minded parent and allow them to choose a career path of their choice and go for their dreams. However, under no circumstanes will my boys be allowed to pursue a career in figure skating. Brian Boytano is one cool dude. I just don't want my kid to be that cool.

Ponder on.

Every 2nd period I have to take a shit. I feel it brewing at 6:30 or so aftger my morning cup of coffee. Where'd the sleep go. What's sleep anyways - something that doesn't exist after college apparently. I need a job that allows more sleep. That's how I determined my major, history, anyways. No classes before 10 a.m. Most history courses began at 10:45, which gives me just enough sleep if I actually decide to go to Professor Bowling's lecture. But for now, I'm up at 6:30, sleeping is history, sub teaching tomorrow's leaders presently. There could be another George Bush in here? Or another Abraham Lincoln - one of Bush's many teachers - right?

I feel the shit brewing before I go to school, but I figure why start now, it's not completely ready to come out, and we all know (all, being men; women don't brew) if you push too soon, when the poop doesn't want to be born yet, it will be premature and you'll have to make a couple visits to Jon before I can stop worrying about one of the little shits yelling "Who farted?".

So I wait until 3rd period, often my prep. Subs need this prep more than real teachers. Real teachers would leave the classroom prolly period one and take care of business - why? because they're experienced, or at least been there long enough to know when nature calls, you answer - and don't give a SHIT about stinking up the hallways for passerbys on way to 2nd period. Lincoln would have gone lst period. Bush wears diapers - the only reason I can think of for him standing like that.

12/15/05

Flipping through New Yorker today, as most sub teachers do. I came across an advertisment about AIDs awareness. In the picture, there are a bunch of celebrities (Fresh Prince, Elton John, Elton's John, Alicia Keys). Across the picture, in bold, is a slogan "We All Have AIDS - If One of Us Does". This is kind of a play on words with Doctor King's, "If there is an injustice anywhere, there is an injustice everywhere". I applaud these famous people for speaking out about such a horrible disease -- but -- if you take a closer look at the picture. The celebs are barefoot. We all have AIDs if one of us does and now "We All Have Foot Fungus because Elton John Does". Thanks John and Fresh Prince. Although not an athlete anymore, I have the feet of one - Athlete's Foot - previously thought of as a myth by me. Never known anyone with the athlete's foot, have you? Secondly, it's tough being an athlete with "a" foot - two of them is essential, ask Tyson.

tis the season for Christmas, the celebration of and the war on, along with telling Jesus how much we love em while drunk as a skunk (whatever that means; nobody has ever shared a fo ty with a skunk) and making New Year's Resolutions that nobody keeps - except me. Two years ago my resolution was to never make another resolution ever again; haven't broke it yet and come 12 tonight the streak will continue as I thank Jesus for such a great 2005. I fucking love that guy.

Everybody asks what I'm up to these days. The answer they're looking for is something like sub teaching, which I am doing, but truthfully I have no clue what I'm doing. So today I thought, maybe I'll grow some facial hair. Maybe that's where the answers are. So for now, when people asks what I'm up to, I will tell them, "Growing facial hair, trying to figure this whole THing out."

Daily NUGGETS

...lil' slices of G-Man's day...

Sun. Nov. 13, 2005

Football Sunday - Me, a Giants fan. What a horrible (say it like Bill Walton now - horr ii bull) game. It was boring and when I'm bored I wander off and think of stuff. Stuff like why the zebra designs for the ref outfits. And I know the critics rate this a "G" blog, but what do the letters "BJ" stand for on the back of referee 74?

Wed. Nov. 9, 2005

G-man subbed at Kennedy Middle once again. Don't really love this subbing thing, but it's for the kids; as it should always be. Writing to help the munchkins out. A little petition. Had cafe duty for 3 periods straight today. Without Mr. Kennedy in there, chaos would have persued. Students act better around me because I lied to them and said, "Yes I am related to JFK"; not exactly a lie though. Futhermore, chicken nuggets were on the lunch menu today. They dish out a whole 5 nuggets for these kids. According to the 1847 study "Our minds are conditioned to think in equal numbers, and yes, so are our bellies", the students deserve 6 nuggets. The kids want one more nugget, and one more nugget they shall receive if the American people would fight the power and sign this petition.
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Was picking up Chilli's for the fam. Dad, me, and brother - Cajun chicken sandwich, awwh yeah; Mom - steak sandwich. Order to go right. Chilli's has a new thing; curb side pickup. Was sitting in the parking lot, waiting for our food, listening to Rosanne do standup about Arsenio Hall being our only chance to see a black nerd. I'm waiting for awhile, two cars are parked next to me...One guy waiting asks the other guy (you know, the other guy), "Do they really go out and give us the food, or do you have to go in? The OTHER guy astonishes him by telling him they do come out. Here we are, in a parking lot, signs in front of us - "Curb Side Pick-UP", and this guy asks if they really come out.

This gave me an idea. A couple friends of mine, all caucasian (because that's where we were born), were considering opening up a Chinse Restaurant; possibly "Kennedy & Macca's Chinse Restaurant"; our slogan being "We Spare the Felines". We'd even have curb side pick-up...but not really; have the signs out there and just make people wait, and when they got tired of waiting, they'd come inside, we'd be right next to the door and say, "Oh, was just on my way out".

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Tuesday, November 8, 2005

My grandma ma gets her toe nails clipped at the doctor...must be a pre-voting ritual

I voted today, among other things, also had a ham sandwich with the spicy, yet unspicy mustard