Introducing Professional Development

Well, I've kept up with a blog about as well as Jameis Winston stays away from crustaceans. But hopefully that's about to change.

I'm introducing a new project: a weekly web comic called Professional Development that chronicles the follies and foibles of teaching at William T. Sherman High School, home of the Fightin' Possums. I won't say much more. I'll let the comic do the talking. Please feel free to share any way you like.

You've Been Customer Served

What do you mean you don't want 10 GB of Justin Bieber songs for $29.99 a month?

I hate The Nutcracker.

My little sister took ballet as a kid, and each year they performed The Nutcracker in Spartanburg. I, of course, had to attend. It was usually anywhere from two to thirty-six hours long, depending on how well the girls had their routines down. So I would sit there, dressed in some itchy sweater and clip-on tie, quietly cursing Tchaikovsky as well as any 10-year-old could. And as I waited for my sister to spend her five minutes of stage time as a Gingersnap Sprite or Licorice Lemming or whatever the hell she played that year, I heard that damn song. You know what it is. I don’t know if it has a name. But it’s the Nutcracker song they play every Christmas.

Now, decades later, I still hate that goddamn song. And it takes me back to watching ballet as a kid.

Last week, we ordered my wife a new cell phone. She was eligible for a new one from Verizon with a two new year contract and about $40 worth of accessories you don’t ever need.

“Hey, man, you gotta buy the bug screen for your phone, or those locusts will just slam into that bitch all day long!”

What does that have to do with the Nutcracker? Just wait.

Verizon had a deal online for a new LG G3 phone for only $30. Take my money. As I processed the order, I saw they had an extra treat to dangle in front of us: Get a free LG 8.3 LTE tablet with the purchase. That’s one of those things you Google about seven times just to make sure they’re not bullshitting you.

So we processed the order, got the necessary insurance for when my wife sneezes on the phone and it shatters the screen, and let FedEx take care of the rest.

The phone arrived Monday. I had the moment of clairvoyance when I first placed the order that the tablet would not arrive. It sucks being right all the time.

So I settled in for a nice, long winter phone call to Verizon customer service. After a couple of disconnects and transfers, I finally reached a customer service rep who seemed about as pleased to talk to me as a South Carolina politician taking an ethics exam. He seemed genuinely surprised that I was a due a free tablet. He checked with his manager and had a nice surprise for me: the 8.3 tablet was out of stock with no back order options. Translation: You ain’t gettin’ one, fool!

So he again checked with his manager and offered a “comparable” solution: they would send me a free Verizon Ellipsis 7 tablet. Okay, sure. In Spartanburg, we don’t look a gift goat in the mouth. He signed me up for a two-year plan and we called it a night.

Well, until I got curious and looked up reviews on the Ellipsis 7. Turns out it’s about as popular as George W. Bush at a spelling bee. The average Amazon review boiled down to people saying they would rather catch a wasp in their buttocks than have this tablet for free.

So I called back. Same process, same disconnects, same offers for new plans that promise forest nymphs will climb out of my phone and give me 4 extra gigs of data. When I finally get a person on the phone who has more authority than a slug, I express my desire to drop the Ebola of a tablet that is the Ellipsis 7.

Oh, but this customer service rep has a surprise for me. There’s a magical certified preowned LG 8.3 LTE they’ve been hiding for a special asshole, and I have now won the prize. So I get that.

Which, of course, includes a $35 activation fee. I think that means I pay $35 for them to put a battery in it and turn it on. I could have had the fee waived if I bought $60 worth of tablet cases, stainless steel screen covers, and a pit bull chained to the tablet. Yeah, I didn’t get the math either.

So now I have a free tablet on the way so I can… play Words with Friends on a bigger screen. Oh, what the hell does this have to do with the ballet story?

Because for the approximate 45 minutes I spent on hold, they played the goddamn Nutcracker song.

Hot Tub Slime Machine

Got paid 'bout three fitty for mah services in the hot tube.

In this edition of Is It Spartanburg?, the tale is almost too good to be true. You may have caught it in the national news, but this beauty is almost too good to be true:

1. Water Moccasin Nest Ruins Hot Tub Party
2. Drunk Man Found Naked and Swimming in Hot Tub Store
3. Gay Hot Tub Threesome Ends in Fight

You know you want to pick the last headline, and you're right. Three Spartanburg men engaged in a ménage à tub after two of them met another in a gay nightclub. They took their swim at a home where one of the men was dog-sitting (because why take the party to your own home?). According to police, one of the men, Austin Adams, 18, began arguing with Douglas Tench, 21, over who used to get paid more as a male escort.

And of course, in Sparkle City, them's fightin' words.

Adams and Tench engaged in more than just love taps in the hot tub, and it finally took the third man, Michael Gordon, 33, to separate them, according to police. Tench fled to another house to call the cops, resulting in the arrest of all three: Adams for assault and Tench and Gordon for providing Adams with booze, according to the police.

Needless to say, all three men admitted that alcohol was involved. That's just a given in Spartanburg.

I Drink I Can, I Drink I Can

All aboard the dumbass express!

Boy, keeping up with this blog is almost as easy as SC House Speaker Bobby Harrell remaining ethical in office. We haven't done Is It Spartanburg? in a while, and I've got a good one for y'all, albeit a few weeks old. Guess which story is real:

1. Drunk Man Holds Up Train; Forces it to Go to Charlotte
2. Drag Race on Train Tracks Ends Tragically
3. Train Drives Over Drunk Man Asleep on Tracks, No Injuries

A fascination with trains seems to be in the cards for every young man, and it starts at an early age. My nephew adored Thomas the Train early in his life, and I especially took delight (to my sister's disapproval) of having him repeat the name of Thomas' best friend, Percy. If you don't see the humor in this, ask a 3-year-old to say "Percy" and giggle foolishly at your own immaturity.

This fascination apparently extends into adult years, especially when intoxicated. Sometimes a superhero who had the misfortune of being born in a bad location emerges, and such may be the case with this inebriated fellow. Police say the man passed out on the train tracks, his beer still upright. Although this should be a recipe for a filleted redneck, this gentleman managed to escape all injury as the train passed over. Even better, you can catch some police footage at the link.

He did not escape the long arm of Spartanburg's finest as he was charged with trespassing on train tracks (a real crime in SC) and public intoxication.

In Holy City news, the first SC gay marriage ceremony took place in Charleston today following a federal judge striking down the state ban. Since we're one of the notches in the Bible Belt that gets used often after Thanksgiving dinner, there has been much weeping and gnashing of Scripture following the ruling.

Charleston, however, has not been smote from the heavens, there have been no riots in the streets, and traffic on the Mark Clark still sucks at the same rate. The word is church services and hangover brunches will still continue as scheduled this weekend. Sunday Funday is still a go.

Thy Meat is Tainted

Your one-way ticket to hell.

For my nine readers, you know that I tend to keep the status quo on this blog as pretty light-hearted. However, I feel I can no longer stay silent on a growing societal problem in this nation, and it's one that tears at the fabric of our moral fortitude and familial values. This problem is a sinful action that, although once regarded as a pariah in our society, has now grown to be a tolerated and sometimes even celebrated behavior.

I am, of course, talking about the placement of mayonnaise on hamburgers.

Let not the vocal minority sway you from the Biblical food laws upon which our nation was founded. Mayonnaise is made from egg whites, vinegar, and lemon juice. As Leviticus 19:23 states, it is forbidden to eat fruit from fruit trees unless it is four years have passed after you planted the trees. Do you think your lemon juice comes from four-year-old trees? I think not, sinner.

Furthermore, Numbers 3:6 forbids the consumption of vinegar for you Nazarites out there.

Clearly a higher power did not intend for the miscegenation of beef patties and mayo. God made Ground Chuck and Tomatoes, not Ground Chuck and Mayo!

But that doesn't stop the liberals in Hollywood, the media, and foodie sodomites from pushing their mayo agenda on the public. Liberal fast food chains like Wendy's (which also pushes the advancement of gingers in our society) force customers to eat mayonnaise on their burgers unless the customer specifically requests it be removed. The agenda has even forced its way into public schools where students can marry their patties with packets of Hellmann's. Such practice happens without a single reprimand from school administrations. All the more reason to send your children to private institutions.

America was founded on moral principles that support ketchup and mustard on hamburgers. These are American condiments. Would John Wayne put liberal pinko mayo on his burger? Did the man not play Genghis Khan?

Mayo and burger fraternizing is a personal lifestyle choice, not a natural food preference. There are several examples today of people who are former mayo users; with guidance, instruction, and tough love, these people can be cured of putting white sauce on their beef.

Now, I know what some of you folks are saying. Who cares? Why not let people eat their burgers the way they see fit? Here's why: Because you're ruining the sanctity of food consumption. If this atrocity is permitted, what's to stop people from putting mayo on steaks? Ice cream? Corn on the cob? Apple pie? For Christ's sake. Apple pie. Think of the moral implications of it.

Mayophiles don't want equality; they want special privileges. No one is saying they don't have the right to eat burgers. They just can't eat burgers with mayonnaise, which is the way God and our society intended. Some of you argue for civil unions of the beef and mayo, but I tell you that in God's eyes, there's nothing civil about it.

Personally, if I have children, I don't want my kids subjected to that disgusting behavior. Why should my child have to watch some heathen slap a glob of Duke's on his patty? But if they turn on the TV at night, they'll see such behavior not only prevalent but encouraged. Mayo-agenda shows like Chopped or Iron Chef will push those perverse lifestyles on our children.

This is why I eat at Chick-fil-A, a God-fearing establishment that eliminates any chance of hamburger and mayonnaise fornication by refusing to serve beef altogether. I encourage you all to support your local Chick-fil-A's free speech rights in this endeavor. Dress like a cow and burn mayonnaise jars in the parking lot.

As I write, the push for hamburger and mayonnaise toleration has reached the great state of South Carolina. I hear rumors that the Cheeseburgers-A-Plenty at the Beacon will soon have white goo on their buns in the name of "equality". Guess I missed the part where someone argued for my rights not to be offended by someone's food choice.

Take a stand, people, before these mayophiles rise up and make us ketchup users the oppressed minority in this nation.

And to the mayo users, I hope you enjoy your Miracle Whip warm in hell.

A Fresh Edition of Is It Spartanburg?

We're serving up fresh veggies on the menu again as we dabble in the crime world of South Carolina's most dangerous city. See if you can guess which one of these headlines is real from Sparkle City:

Woman Beats Husband Unconscious with Squash
Man Robs Bank with Cucumber Under Jacket
Brothers Attack Each Other in Fight Over Stolen Okra

In the South, one of the holiest of holy vegetables is fried okra. That's why when Ted Kelly allegedly stole okra out of his brother's garden, Anthony Kelly felt he needed to confront his sibling about the veggie snatch. Words were exchanged, and Anthony decided the best course of action was to hit his brother with a stick, according to police. Ted responded by hitting his brother back with his own stick, earning both of them a night in the county lockup.

Would I shock you if I said alcohol was a factor? Probably not. Police say both men were too drunk to give statements.

I'm not sure I can exactly blame Anthony, as my grandmother's fried okra tasted like someone took pieces of unicorns and lightly battered them in angel tears. I probably would have smacked my sister or a cousin with a stick if they jacked my fried goodies. My wife makes some pretty damn good fried okra, too.

We fry everything here in the South. Okra, pickles, sometimes even bananas. I usually abhor vegetables since I'm a strictly meat and potatoes guy, but fry em up and we'll do business. My favorite veggie frying pan treat from Nana were her squash cookies. She would take thinly sliced squash, place some kind of voodoo spell on them, and then produce these lightly battered and fried treats that tasted too good to be a vegetable.

Several family members have tried to replicate her recipe, but no one has quite hit the mark.

But if you can find someone who can, I will gladly beat them with a stick to steal them.

Let Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

Todd Gurley plowed us similarly to how this tractor operates.

Well, howdy there. It's been a while. August was quite a busy month for me with work and moving into a new house in Charleston that I plum forgot to write an update for my six followers. I hope everyone had a Happy New Year this past Saturday.

Oh, it wasn't New Year's Day, you say? In the words of the appropriately quoted Lee Corso, "Not so fast my friend." In the South, New Year's Day is the first Saturday of college football.

Now, I know the feathered folks in Columbia will claim that the Hey, Pay Attention to Us! Bowl on the Thursday night game heralds the New Year, but that game is usually just a scrimmage, especially evidenced by the Gamecocks' 52-28 shellacking at the hands of Texas A&M, sans Johnny Football. And to be unbiased, my Tigers didn't fair much better after Georgia's Todd Gurley blitzkrieged Clemson to the tune of 45-21. Reports that Gurley stopped at the 25 yard line during his kick return touchdown to enjoy shrimp hors d'oeuvres and a nice glass of Chianti have yet to be confirmed.

I could opine the tired old topics of college football such as who tailgates the best (Ole Miss with Clemson coming up in second), who has the best fans (Texas A&M), who has the best gameday atmosphere (c'mon... y'all know it's Clemson), who has a celebrity chef as a fan who is likely to vandalize your car with butter (Georgia and Paula Deen). Or even discuss the behavior of certain fan bases, such as Maryland fans' tendency to hurl beer, or Gamecock fans' mullets, or Alabama fans murdering each other after tough losses. Or we could discuss the ESPN-created SEC bias, but nah.

Let's talk about the stages a Southern football fan goes through each season. Now I'm not saying fans in other regions of the nation don't experience these, but down here, college football is a cult that makes the Branch Davidians look like Wake Forest fans.

Stage One - Illusions of Grandeur
Before the first kickoff, we will be national champs. Last year is history, no matter how bad your bowl loss was. We have a new QB. We have some new recruits. We have new uniforms. Our rival had someone arrested, so we're going to win it all. I bought some new window flags and a new lucky baseball cap, which, by God, this one will give us that push.

If you're a Gamecock fan at this moment, you believe your school is the 1985 Chicago Bears.

Stage Two - Rocky Balboa Stage
Okay, so we don't look spectacular... but neither did Rocky at first against Apollo Creed! Or Clubber Lang! Or Ivan Drago! And we will pretend Tommy Gunn didn't happen! Our coach will get it together. The QB just needs a few more reps. The defense won't give up that many yards.

If you're an Alabama fan, you're feeling this stage after beating Georgia State 108-3.

Stage Three - Rodney Dangerfield Stage
What?! We're ranked behind Alabama and Oregon? That's garbage. The whole system is rigged. Who does these polls anyway? Buncha journalists? Can't trust em. We're clearly the greatest team since the '72 Dolphins.

If you're a Boise State fan, you're preaching this after beating Southwestern Mountain Technical Cosmetology School three weeks in a row.

Stage Four - I Am Bear Bryant
We've lost one or two games we shouldn't. Clearly our coach is a buffoon. I know I could do better than this because I beat the same team 56-0 on XBox. It's time for me to sit down and draft up some plays to send to the athletic director along with some threats to pull my donations for next year.

If you're a Clemson fan, this is known as the Form a Lynch Mob and Hang the Whole Coaching Staff Stage.

Stage Five - Acceptance
Okay. Let's just hope for a mid-range bowl in Florida.

If you're a Duke fan and you reach this stage, you check your sweet tea for hallucinogens.

Stage Six - Please, Sweet Jesus, Just Let Us Beat Our Rival
Okay, I don't care about the rest of the season. Just please, please, please don't let us lose to those assholes again. I promise I will work at a soup kitchen all Christmas long if you let us win... by at least two touchdowns.

This is pretty much any fan of any Southern team with an in-state rival, regardless of record.
If you're an NC State fan, you're already looking forward to next year's new uniforms.

Stage Seven - College Football is Bullshit
Who got into the BCS?! (I know, it's a playoff now). Oh, they just let in another SEC team with one loss and left out an undefeated? Herbstreit is full of it. Corso is full of it. David Pollack is a vampire. Jesse Palmer wears skinny ties. This whole system is garbage. Why do I pay all this money and watch this crap every year?! That's it. I'm done with it. I'm going to watch nothing but the NFL from now on.

If you're an SEC fan, this is called, "Welp, my team sucked, but, uh, SEC! SEC! SEC!"
If you're a Florida State fan, you're too busy asking the meat guy at Publix for the Jameis Winston discount.

Stage Eight - Reluctant Traveler
Well, I'm not sure about this bowl game, but it's one last chance to see the seniors play. And it's my team. Okay, I'll go. It'll only cost a $1,000 or so to watch my team lay an egg to some MAC team that is ecstatic to be there.

If you're a Clemson fan, this is the I'm Not Falling For That Shit Again After the 2012 Orange Bowl Stage.

Stage Eight - Maybe Just One Peek...
Okay, I guess I'll watch the National Title game. Oh, Alabama won by four touchdowns? Awesome. This sucks. I'll never watch this again.

If you're a fan of an SEC team with a losing record, you are passed out in drunken euphoria.
If you're a Gamecock fan, you're trolling the message board of the team that lost to Bama.

Stage Nine - Withdrawal
Man, I miss college football. I wish August would hurry up and get here!

Happy New Year, ladies and gentlemen.