Correction: I *have* seen a few episodes of News Radio, although not one complete episode, I'm afraid. Yes, Erin, I remember the "Canadian Dave" episode, because that particular one reminded me of last year, and how we couldn't convince you that you were Canadian. Also, I love the anti-Dale Greenland page, and have a story of my own to share. (The rest of you may as well listen, too.)

Last year on my birthday, I left first period early, and headed down to Smith's. I bought a birthday balloon, had it filled with helium, and headed back to school to show off to everyone that I was eighteen. Upon entering the school, I encountered the rotund demon, Dale Greenland. (If it's in parenthesis, it's our real thoughts.)

"Where are you supposed to be?" (Hmm. You aren't white or a underclass female. I must stop you.)

"In class." (Dumbass. Where else am I supposed to be at 8:00 a.m.)

"Well, why aren't you there?" (I've got him now.)

Because I had to leave to get this balloon." (Just send me on my way, you rotund demon.)

"Ohhhhhhh. So you left school to buy this balloon?" (I just knew he'd slip up sooner or later.)

The conversation goes on from here, and leads to him giving me a 'stern talkin'to and a slip for detention. But what's this? If I attend tomorrow's basketball game, he'll forget all about it. No one wants to see his son ride the pine though. So the next night, I walk up to him at the game, he throws the slip away, and I head downstairs to attend the school production of The Curious Savage.

Around this time, the rotund demon also runs down the hall towards me, and tells me I have to go to the office. I comply, not knowing why I'm being called in as our creative writing class is boarding a school bus to attend a writing confrence at another high school. I can remember looking back at people who I never spoke to like Diane and Nina yelling to me, "Jason!" like they were parents whose child was being led off to jail.

Apparently, there was a report of graffitti in an upstairs bathroom, and although I had been outside of the classroom for literally five seconds and their suspect was much shorter than I, heavier than I, and was wearing gray or orange, I was detained as he asked me stupid questions, that sparked answers in my mind like, "sure, I could run down the stairs that fast, but could you?"

I saw him as I returned to my alma matter yesterday to pick up grad tics with G and B. He was just as lazy as ever, still evesdropping on conversations, still trying to be cool. The coolest thing would be if he would do his damn job correctly and without predjudices. While he's at it, he should drop the Dom DeLouise look, and teach his son to either say "would you like fries with that?" or, "will that be paper or plastic?" if he keeps copying the world's most famous poems in english class.

Jason

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