That was quite mentally simulating.
So you're a Catholic school boy eh?I've been known to go into a trance like state and recite my times tables two through twelve in one breath at the mere sight of one of those rubber tipped dowels that the nuns used as a blackboard pointer. I still flinch involuntarily doing the nine's.
Westsound!Oh, I remember those.***shudder***
I remember one particular Sister in the third grade right off the boat from Ireland. She spoke in a very heavy brough. The madder she got at our lack of comprehension, the heavier the brough, rendering her speech unintelligible. Of course this would send her into a frothing Irish rage. She would wade into the class wielding the pointer like a samurai warrior. Upon arriving at the Mother Superiors office she assumed, being boys, that we were there for lifting the plaid skirts of our classmates and the beatings were repeated without hesitation or opportunity for explanation.On the bright side, I can spell flawlessly and recite my times tables on command.
@Westsound: Flawlessly, you say? It's brogue, then, Markie me boy.Seems like it's my weekend to add to Sipp's video selections. Hope everyone knows Taylor Mali's famous piece on being a teacher: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU
Brogue? Dammit.I will report to the Mother Superiors office immediately for further lashings.
Well as usual i am a day late and a dollar short to this article. But, I am so thankful i went to a dark dank fortress of a school in the inner city of Boston. I only had to watch out for the child molesters, vagrants, gangs of all colors and the smiling cop on the beat who would put a boot up our butt if we loitered to long outside Tom English's Dining and Disco.
Bretton- My dad went to Cathedral High School in Boston. I was born near there.
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