and if you ain’t down you’ll get played out, son

Adam’s dealing with trouble in paradise… plus he’s having problems with his English class!

It’s not just that the students don’t have respect for their English teachers. They goof around and don’t do any work in their other classes just like they do in ours, but the difference in those classes is that the teachers either aren’t bothered or just decide to let it go. Kids are rewarded with good grades whether they deserve them or not. I mean, I’ve got kids failing my class (because their performance warrants it), and the officials at the school are telling our English Program Director that we can’t give kids grades like that because they might quit.

[zing] Since when did UGA open up a campus in Ecuador? [/zing]

living in a post-racial society is so awesome

Overseen in Athens delves into the burgeoning market for racist amputee humor.

But did you hear the story about Obama’s radical pastor? Obama did a favor to all Good Americans — both Right and Sensible Left — by denouncing Jeremiah Wright. Now the only question is, did he denounce him hard enough? I shore do hope so. It’s great to see Obama denounce and reject race pimps like Wright. You see, what professional victims like Wright don’t understand is that racism is no longer tolerated in America. And that means we have to make it our solemn duty never to discuss it again — ever.

me, i’m a pimp, i ain’t payin for no sex

Does not The Red & Black’s coverage of UGA’s sexual harassment problem keep getting better and better as the semester progresses? Senior reporter Melissa Weinman reveals yet another incident of professorial courtship, this time involving poetry:

you are beyond compare
your presence makes me wish
I could just grow up
your absence makes me wish
I could just be twenty-one
walking on a warm night
in the scent of sweet peas and lilacs
to the beloved
and rest in the anxieties
of a youthful body
that seemed so innocent
compared to those of
(what’s the word I want?)
real life

This is a good example of why I’d support a law stating that unless you’re a trained professional, you should never be allowed to write less than two sentences per graph break. Anybody caught writing amateur love poetry will be sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor at a roofie factory in North Korea. Besides, there are sweet, thoughtful, timeless love poems out there already.

hoco

Hot Corner opened just as I came to Athens. As an off-and-on (but generally off) regular there for four years, I enjoyed having a place to go where, at any given hour, somebody I knew (or was at least acquainted with) would be lurking. This was pretty much the place’s only appeal, since their coffee was from (in the words of a regular) “Sam’s Club! Fucking Sam’s Club!” So we saw the shop slowly lose patronage and rely on blind loyalty from a small circle of devotees to remain open. Eventually the owners had to sell off HoCo’s side porch and “reading room” to some local entrepreneurs who turned that space into a pretty decent Belgian-microbrew-serving grad student bar. The stylistic contrast couldn’t have been clearer in the months that followed — excellent booze could be bought mere yards away from shitty coffee and microwave edibles. Well, the same folks just bought and renovated HoCo itself. If the success of Trappeze is any indication, then this should be good news for Hot Corner. And what’s more, the new owners plan to restore its late night hours, a decision that will should be met with celebration from all corners — from scene kids, to townies, to the homeless. And a beloved downtown hangout will have inexplicably cheated death.

deep thoughts

Q: How do we reduce the number of babies born out of wedlock?

A: By telling teenagers they can’t fuck.

(Brought to you by the University of Georgia College Republicans)

i’m touched

I thought Mom was the only one.

They dug pretty far back in the archives to fill the album, too.

dead man walking

Entered the above phase at work today, as I complete my final two weeks of cartoons for The Red & Black. I’ve been working there since my first month at UGA — August 2004 — so my departure from the place is going to be tinged with weirdness, especially if my time there turns out to have represented the apex of my cartooning career. I’ve been raking myself over the coals trying to come up with a grand finale, but I probably won’t decide until the day before (my usual method).

Of course, it all gets put into perspective when considering cartoonists much more distinguished and prolific than I.

Regardless, I’ll be posting each of the final 10 cartoons as they appear in the paper.