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release date=2018


Star=Bill Cunningham

The Times of Bill Cunningham is a movie starring Bill Cunningham. A new feature film documentary about legendary NYTimes photographer Bill Cunningham

The times of bill. Probably so many politicians who are closet atheists. The times of bill cunningham. The times of bill cunningham where to watch. I love bills reaction to his own question at the end. hes just like oh wait a minute. duh. The times of bill cunningham 2020.


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What a awesome song, and singers! Still gives me goosebumps, after all the yrs! Memories of my husband when i hear these words. I've had the time of my life! I'll see you in Heaven one day Tom! I love you forever. The times of bill cunningham review. The times of bill cunningham trailer. The times of bill cunningham anna. The times of bill cunningham stream. I agree with cable guy. really dark character. Bill Hader stars as Barry, a depressed, low-rent hitman from the Midwest. Lonely and dissatisfied in his life, he reluctantly travels to Los Angeles to execute a hit on an aspiring actor. Read More “Incredibly well-made, with tonal twists and turns that will have you laughing and emotionally moved in equal measure. ” CLIP 2:19 HBO Backstories: Alec Berg How do you capture the truth of a Los Angeles acting class? You sneak into one. Barry creator Alec Berg discusses the research he and co-creator Bill Hader conducted for the first season of the show. Watch the Backstory. “Highly entertaining and acutely heartbreaking, and that’s pretty damn special. ” “Hader is phenomenal. ” “The best new comedy on television. ” “ hell of a show. ” Get HBO Anytime, Anywhere Discover how you can enjoy HBO’s original series, hit movies, documentaries and more. HBO is available through the HBO NOW streaming app, TV package, or an existing digital subscription Did You Know? You can stream HBO anywhere you go. Watch HBO on your TV, computer, tablet or mobile phone.

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I love the optimisim in his tone when he talks about fashion and the words he uses to articulate his views, so accessible and not full of technical jargon. a rare voice for a fashion critic. love u Bill.
The Times of bill online.
Bernie has been calling drumpf a pathological liar for year, and has pointing out medicare = socialism for years. Maher doesn't want to hear that now, in 2020.
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My daughter was curious, from a young age she posed an infinite amount of critical questions - why do the clouds look angry before it rains? Why do people work all day if it makes them sad? How do you know you love Mommy? – regardless of how many “I don’t know”s I tossed back at her. My daughter was creative, painting favorite song lyrics and beautiful images along her bedroom walls no matter how many times I painted over them. My daughter was trusting, placing her life in my hands in spite of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times I failed her. My daughter died on the night of her fifteenth birthday. My daughter was born on the night she died, an uncommonly bleak Texas summer evening, with dark clouds threatening to split open and spill rain. She took her final breath, shallow and sluggish, as I slept soundly in the next room. She died, helpless and alone and straining to hold on, on the night of her fifteenth birthday. She would have laid there until morning, her body growing pale and cold and rigid, if I hadn’t gotten the call. The sound of the landline ringing jolted me awake at 1:30 AM. I’m ashamed to admit that I almost ignored it, but I figured it might be Charlie requesting a ride home. She was a hell of a partier even at her young age, and I lacked the necessary rapport to steer her away from the precarious road she was already traveling down at ninety miles per hour, windows down, stereo blaring. Reckless, careless, but free – that was my Charlie. I peeled myself out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, knees and back aching – god, when did I get so old? – as I rushed to reach the phone before the final ring. I cleared my throat, hoarse from hours of sleep. “Hello? ” “There’s a storm on the way, son. Check on Charlotte. ” “Dad? ” I returned, incredulous, but the line had already disconnected. Sleep crusting my eyes and half convinced I must be dreaming, I followed the caller’s instructions, pacing to my daughter’s room and gently nudging the door open. The light was on – she always left the lights on, no matter how many damn times I told her I couldn’t afford the electric bill. I stepped through the doorway to switch off the light when I finally caught sight of her, really saw her and the state she was in. Her eyes were open. Her body was still, no rhythmic rising and falling of her chest. I watched as my hand, still clinging to the phone yet somehow so disconnected from my own mind or body, dialed 911. Suddenly, a paramedic was there, grabbing me by the shoulders, shaking me out of my disoriented state. I don’t know how much time had passed – I was there, but not entirely. My mind was somewhere else, years ago... I was eating ice creams with Charlie at Six Flags as she raced me to the next roller coaster. “Do you want your daughter to live? ” the man shouted, desperate and rushed. I could only nod in response. He dashed into Charlie’s room. I followed him. Another man – the head paramedic, perhaps – stopped me, blocking my path, blocking my way to Charlie. “Sir, your daughter is gone, ” he stated flatly. “Wh – what? He just said…” I choked, raising a quivering digit to point at the man who’d brought me into the room mere moments ago. The man waved me off, clearly in too much of a time crunch to hear me out. I didn’t feel particularly capable of speech anyway. “She’s been dead for too long to resuscitate traditionally. There’s something else we could try, something new and experimental, but we need your permission to do so. ” He bent over, reaching into a black duffel bag to pull out a plastic package. I glanced around the room, unable to truly process anything he’d said. Charlie, gone? Too late? Experimental? My eyes bounced over the anxiously waiting faces of the emergency response team before fixing on the packaging in the man’s hand. “I’m going to need an answer, sir, ” he directed, firmly. “I can assure you your daughter will not live unless we try this. ” “Yes, ” I wheezed. All air had left my lungs. When the safety, no, the life of your child is concerned, there really is no other answer. Immediately, the emergency team set into action, forming a horseshoe around her bed. The man in charge ripped through the plastic packaging to reveal a large needle partially filled with an opaque black fluid. The alarmingly long tip of the needle glinted in the yellow light from the single lamp illuminating the room, the one that Charlie never turned off. Advancing toward the side of Charlie’s bed, he spoke to me without looking at me, focused entirely on the task at hand. “I’m going to perform an intracardiac injection, ” he explained as another paramedic used a pair of scissors to release the fabric of her shirt from her upper chest. “And, well, we’ll see what happens after that. ” His uncertainty was far from comforting, but I was out of options. He raised the needle up high and drove it down, puncturing the left side of her chest, burying the lengthy point inside. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the plunger at the opposite end to empty the liquid into her body. “Give her space, ” he barked, taking a few steps backwards himself. The rest of his team followed suit, leaving Charlie reclined on the bed. For ten excruciatingly long seconds, nothing happened. I buried my face in my hands, unable to watch, the feeling of failure absolutely suffocating. My mind offered me refuge in pleasant memories once more, but Charlie needed me there. I could not leave again. Dropping my hands back down to my sides, I watched, amazed, as Charlie began to move again. Horror quickly eclipsed amazement as I realized that she wasn’t moving, no, something was wriggling against the inside of her skin, straining as it attempted to tear its way from the inside out. And then, SSSSSSHLEPPPPP. The sound of ripping, wet and loud and nauseating, tore through the smothering silence that had fallen over the room. A screech of agony pierced the air as the skin of my Charlie’s face burst to split down the center. The head of some unknown creature, capped with glistening white, burst forth. The figure continued to fight, struggling to release its body from within Charlie’s skin, ligaments and tendons and vessels snapping loudly with each forceful movement. My head spinning, I steadied myself with both hands laid flat on my knees, my breaths coming heavy and unsatisfying. The rest of her flesh erupted soon after, tearing first along the middle of her torso, the gashes splintering and spreading down to her arms and legs. The strange figure, red and bloody and severe, finally emerged from its trappings to sit upright with a sickening squelch, glancing frantically around the room. The wheels in my old brain finally turned, allowing me to make some sense of what I was seeing. The figure that sat on the bed before me, surrounded by my daughter’s flesh, loose and deflated, appeared to be the insides of a person – like you’d see in a biology textbook, the diagram just after the organ systems, just before the fully fleshed human. Just bone and muscle coated in blood, slick and red. “Dad? ” the figure squeaked, confusion and pain readily apparent in her voice, Charlie’s voice. “What’s going on? ” --- The medical team explained the process to her in words I couldn’t even begin to grasp. Something about “secret experiments”, and a final life-saving measure when the small window of opportunity for CPR and other resuscitation methods had passed. Not even fully tested yet. She was their guinea pig. Needless to say, she didn’t take it well. I was assured that she would heal, though it would take time, rest, and care. They’d send a nurse to keep her safe and comfortable, but Charlie would have to stay hidden throughout the healing process for obvious reasons. The nurse arrived the next morning, a sprightly young woman named Annie with dark skin and short cropped hair. Her bedside manner was unparalleled – Charlie took to her almost immediately, though the steady dose of pain meds she delivered may have helped facilitate the relationship. Even still, Charlie refused my company entirely. Our relationship was shaky at best before this. I could only sit outside her door, listening to her constant sobbing. I figured I needed to do something eventually, so I gently knocked before pressing her bedroom door open. She appeared to have healed very little, if at all, but it was hard to judge as she was entirely swathed in bandages save for her eyes and mouth. “Hey, Char, ” I called from the doorway, moving hesitantly across the room. She provided no response, rolling over in bed to look out the window. “Listen, ” I began, sighing. “I don’t know what happened to you, Charlie, but… well, it must have been bad, ” I declared, kicking myself internally as the words fell from my mouth, stupid and misguided. “It kills me to see you like this. To see you in pain. I can’t stand to know that you’ve been hurt. I guess I just… I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. ” Charlie slowly turned her head to face me, her bandages brushing loudly against the bedsheets. “I don’t want you to say you’re fucking sorry, ” she seethed, lidless eyes fixed on me in an unblinking, hateful stare. She hesitated before screaming, “get out! Get the fuck out! ” I respected her wishes, backing out of her room and closing the door. I rested my forehead on the white wooden barrier, defeated, unsure of how to get through to her. “You fucking idiot, ” a voice – Annie’s voice – came from behind me. Startled, I turned toward her. She had a dose of medication in one hand, on her way to deliver it to my daughter. “I don’t know what to do, ” I admitted, tears welling in my eyes. Annie laughed gently in disbelief. “ You don’t know what to do? ” she chided softly, somehow still comforting through her criticism. “She died. I don’t know what happened to her, either, but I do know she won’t talk until she feels safe and heard. She’s just a child. Be patient with her. ” --- The next morning, I visited her room again. The visible muscles on her face tugged the corners of her mouth into a frown. I gingerly stepped across the room to perch on the edge of her bed. “Tell me how you feel, Charlie. Help me understand. ” She flinched, clearly unsure of how to respond. I was hit with the gut wrenching realization that I’d never really talked to my own daughter. “He was my friend... I trusted him. I’ve lost everything, ” she lamented, casting her eyes downward, impossibly white against the muscle surrounding them. “I can’t leave this house, I can’t go to school, I can’t see my friends, as if I ever had any in the first place. I feel so… sad, and so weak, and so stupid. ” Charlie swallowed loudly before adding, “but mostly, I feel so angry. ” “Tell me more about that, ” I urged, turning to face her directly. She shook her head slowly, weighing the gravity of her feelings. “I don’t understand why this happened, and it fills me with hatred. How could he do this to me? I went to bed on my fifteenth birthday and I woke up… this. I don’t even know what I am anymore, ” she fumed, hatred twisting her voice. “And I hate myself, too, because somehow I hate you more than I hate him. ” I hung my head, afraid of what she’d say. “I hate that you didn’t protect me, I hate that you let me die, but most of all, I hate that you never wanted me, ” she ranted, sitting up to confront me. “O-of course I want you, Char, ” I stammered. She scoffed in response. “Don’t pretend like you care about me, ” she growled. “You left me. For years after mom died, you’d leave for weeks at a time. Came back to throw a couple hundred bucks my way for food. I raised myself. I was only ten. I was a fucking kid, dad! You wanted me to die that night, because you never wanted me. ” The accusation hurt like a knife twisting in my chest, threatening to drive me mad. “I hate you, dad! ” she screeched, striking my shoulder with a closed fist. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! ” she repeated, pummeling my side with each admission, flinching upon each impact, her bandages staining red with each blow. The repeated exertion exhausted her until she collapsed on my shoulder. Sadness overcame the force of her hatred as she began to cry. “Charlie, ” I sighed, searching for the words to fix fifteen years’ worth of shitty parenting. “When I was a boy, I dreamed of being an astronaut, a firefighter, a fighter pilot, an inventor… I never dreamed of being a father. ” She recoiled in response, understandably so. “I only ever cared about myself. When you were little, I resented you for stealing my youth, squashing my dreams. Really, I used you as an excuse for my own failures. And my relationship with you is my greatest failure. When your mom passed, she left me with a daughter I didn’t even know. Ten years old, and I didn’t even know your favorite color. ” “It was periwinkle, ” she muttered. “Not getting to know you as a little girl is my life’s greatest regret, ” I choked, balling my hands into tight fists. “Because once I came back, once you started to let me in… I - I’d never loved anyone until I got to know you. Your favorite color is red, not bright red, but deep, crimson, blood red. You love that horrible music, men screaming over harsh melodies, but I love it because it never fails to bring that smile to your face. You love to paint giant pictures across your bedroom wall. Your laugh is so abrupt, and so big that it just… swells and fills the air, infecting me like a contagion that I’ll never grow immune to. You are the strongest person I know, stronger than you know. You came out when you were thirteen, you socked a guy in the face for snapping your bra, you literally died and yet you’re still here fighting. You’re fucking invincible, Charlie, and you - we will get through this. ” A hesitant smile crept across her bandaged face. “The way I treated you after mom died is unacceptable, inexcusable. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. The truth is, I missed out – you didn’t. I was a horrible man. But you, you were perfect. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I will spend every day of the rest of my miserable life making up for the many years I was the worst thing to ever happen to you. ” The next morning, when Annie went to change Charlie’s bandages, she found that a flimsy layer of skin had grown across her body. Paper thin and almost translucent, but there, nonetheless. --- The police came soon after to take Charlie’s statement. They’d been briefed on her strange condition, but they recoiled in horror upon the first sight of her fresh skin, barely concealing her underlying musculature as Annie rewrapped her bandages. “I can’t talk about it, ” she whispered in my ear as the detectives stared. “The words won’t come out. Every time I try to talk… I just feel my thoughts spinning out of control, my chest gets tight, I just… I can’t. ” Holding my index finger up, I shuffled out of the room, returning with the paints I’d confiscated from her years prior. “Then paint it. ” Her smile was so immense I worried it would tear her freshly grown skin. Charlie spent the following weeks alone in her room, refusing any interruptions outside of her medical needs. Each morning when Annie rebandaged her, she was equal parts stunned and overjoyed to note how much how her skin had grown, thickened; still pale beyond belief, but stronger. When she came out to announce that she'd finished, I scrambled out of my chair and rushed down the hallway to see her work, a vibrant mural, monstrous in size. I followed it from the left – her and a man, early twenties maybe, drinking cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon, detailed down to the droplets of condensation on the cans, then to my daughter hunched over thick lines of white powder on the bathroom sink. Then, Charlie sitting on the man’s lap, beaming as she clutched a fresh pack of Camel menthols. The images grew hazy as the sequence continued, my daughter crawling on all fours to the back door, then the man cradling her in his arms, carrying her to bed, tucking her in, pulling the covers all the way up to her chin, like I never did for her. Charlie in her bed, lips tainted blue, storm clouds in the sky forming the image of my late father. The final image depicted Charlie ripping out of her skin that night, born again. “Why… why did you paint him? ” I stuttered, pointing to my father’s likeness in the mural. She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I know he’s gone, but… I just feel like he’s always looking out for me. ” “He called me that night. Told me a storm was coming. That’s why I found you. ” --- As the next year passed, so did my daughter’s recovery. Her hair grew back first in patches, fine and dark. It continued to grow, but she opted to keep it short. The man who left Charlie for dead was sent to prison. Delivery of a controlled substance to a minor – two years. Her eyes swelled with tears upon the news. Slowly, normalcy trickled back into both of our lives. I returned to work. Char still wasn’t ready for school, but she buried herself in her own studies, diving into famous works of art and creating her own. She hurled cans of paint to cover the mural of her untimely death and repainted images of her, of me and of Annie, of us together, towering and colossal. Somehow, through the abject horror of the situation, we all became a family. Though Char’s skin was still fragile, she was thriving in a way I never thought possible. That is, until he got out. He didn’t end up serving his full time, was instead let out early on good behavior. The lead detective on her case delivered the poor news in person. There was nothing she could do. Wordlessly, Char pushed out her chair, stood up, and retreated to her room, slamming the door behind her. Things… well, things fell apart from there. Charlie’s skin began to take on a new appearance, no longer fragile but hardened, rough, cracked… almost scaled over in some places. Jagged, sharp to the touch. Annie confided her worries in me – she was unsure of how her recovery would continue without the assurance of safety. She wasn’t safe with him out there. He called the house last night. “Keep your whore daughter away from me, ” he taunted, voice brimming with poison. “If either of you come anywhere near me, you’ll be sorry. ” As the man hung up, I immediately knew what I had to do. Charlie hadn’t come out of her room for days, and I needed to guarantee her safety. I pulled my gun from my bedside drawer, my thoughts disorganized and unable to form a coherent plan. I didn’t know how, or where, I would find him, but I would. And when I did, I would end him. For Charlie. I sat in my chair for several hours, alone in absolute silence, gun resting in my lap as I hardened myself emotionally for the task at hand. I expected the “right” moment to appear to me. It didn’t. I decided to go anyway. I stood up and moved across the room, down the hallway towards the front door. The door swung open. I jumped back in surprise. Char stood in the entry, covered in blood, clutching a knife. She rushed towards me, enveloping me with her thin arms in a tight and desperate embrace. “Daddy, I killed him, ” she sobbed into my chest, staining my shirt with her tears and his blood. “I killed him, I killed him, I killed him, ” she moaned repeatedly. The knife clattered to the ground as she wailed, “I thought it would make me feel better. I thought I’d get my power back, my life back, but it feels like I just gave it all back to him. I feel so empty, dad, I feel like I’m dead again, plunged headfirst back into the darkness. ” Her hardened skin split and cracked, falling off in jagged shards and piling on the floor as each sob wracked her fragile body. I released her to see the figure I’d seen years ago, the new Charlie who ripped out of my dead daughter, red and severe, distraught and miserable. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just said, “I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. Not again. ” My daughter is strong beyond compare, refusing to surrender, fighting to - even past - the bitter end. My daughter is resilient, clawing herself out of death’s grip and back to the most normal life possible. My daughter is brave, endlessly inspiring, but still, human. I write this as a testament to her, what happened to her, and my love for her, before I turn myself in for her crime. I will take responsibility for this because she has stars in her eyes, and a melody in her laugh. Because she is a far better person than me. Because I am her father, and I will protect her, give her the second chance I never deserved from her. My daughter was born on the night she died.

The original. @ 11:42 did he said finniglin' somebody? tf lol. Sales of the times of bill cunningham. Inspiration. The times of bill cunningham documentary. This trailer gave me anxiety. In the 11 days since the impeached president was acquitted in the Senate’s trial, Trump has: Vowed revenge: At the National Prayer Breakfast, the day after acquittal, Trump said that “It was evil. It was many people have been hurt. And we can't let that go on. ” When asked the clarify Trump’s remarks the following day, Press Secretary Stephanie Grisham told Fox News: “People should be held accountable for anything they do to try to hurt this country and this president…[Trump] is also going to talk about just how horribly he was treated and, you know, that maybe people should pay for that. ” The press later asked Trump how he'll pay back those responsible, to which he responded: "You'll see. " Asked by a reporter: "What lessons did you learn from impeachment? " Trump responded: "That the Democrats are crooked. They probably shouldn’t have brought impeachment. " Fired NSC experts Alexander Vindman and his brother Yevgeny Vindman. Alexander was a witness in the impeachment inquiry but Yevgeny was not involved. The official line for firing Alexander was that he tried to decide U. S. policy. There has been no reason given for firing Yevgeny. Trump justified firing Alexander the next morning: "I don't know [Vindman], never spoke to him or met him (I don't believe! ) but, he was very insubordinate, reported contents of my 'perfect' calls was given a horrendous report by his superior, the man he reported to, who publicly stated that Vindman had problems with judgement, adhering to the chain of command and leaking information. In other words, 'OUT. '" Attacked former Chief of Staff John Kelly for defending Vindman: “When I terminated John Kelly, which I couldn’t do fast enough, he knew full well that he was way over his head. Being Chief of Staff just wasn’t for him. He came in with a bang, went out with a whimper, but like so many X’s, he misses the action & just can’t keep his mouth shut, he actually has a military and legal obligation to do. His incredible wife, Karen, who I have a lot of respect for, once pulled me aside & said strongly that ‘John respects you greatly. When we are no longer here, he will only speak well of you. Wrong! ” tweet “He did exactly what we teach them to do from cradle to grave, ” Kelly said at an event at Drew University in New Jersey, according to The Atlantic. “He went and told his boss what he just heard. ” Fired Ambassador to the European Union Gordon Sondland, another impeachment witness who testified that “everyone was in the loop” on the scheme to pressure to Ukraine to investigate Trump’s opponents. Attacked the prosecutors in Roger Stone’s case for recommending a sentence of 7-9 years in prison: “This is a horrible and very unfair situation. The real crimes were on the other side, as nothing happens to them. Cannot allow this miscarriage of justice! ” tweet Hours later, AG Barr and DOJ leadership intervened to overrule the sentence recommendation and instead suggest a lighter sentence. All four career prosecutors withdrew from the Stone case, including one who quit the DOJ entirely. Attacked the four prosecutors who withdrew from the case and Mueller: “Who are the four prosecutors (Mueller people? ) who cut and ran after being exposed for recommending a ridiculous 9 year prison sentence to a man that got caught up in an investigation that was illegal, the Mueller Scam, and shouldn’t ever even have started? ” tweet In a later interview with Geraldo Rivera: “I don’t think they quit for moral reasons, ” the president said. “I think they got caught in the act by me! ” Trump continued: “What am I going to do, let a man go to jail for nine years when murderers aren’t going to jail! You have some of the most serious, horrible rapists and everything else, they don’t go to jail for nine years! ” Attacked Judge Amy Berman Jackson, who oversaw Roger Stone’s case and Paul Manafort’s case, on Twitter: “Is this the Judge that put Paul Manafort in SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, something that not even mobster Al Capone had to endure? How did she treat Crooked Hillary Clinton? Just asking! ” Chief U. District Judge Beryl Howell of the District of Columbia issued a statement defending Jackson: “The Judges of this Court base their sentencing decisions on careful consideration of the actual record in the case before them; the applicable sentencing guidelines and statutory factors; the submissions of the parties, the Probation Office and victims; and their own judgment and experience, ” Howell said. “Public criticism or pressure is not a factor. ” Attacked the foreperson on the Stone jury: “Now it looks like the fore person in the jury, in the Roger Stone case, had significant bias. Add that to everything else, and this is not looking good for the ‘Justice’ Department. ” tweet Suggested he is considering a pardon for Stone and/or Flynn, tweeting “prosecutorial misconduct” in response to a tweet calling for pardons. Accused Mueller of lying to Congress while also praising Barr for intervening in the Stone case: “Congratulations to Attorney General Bill Barr for taking charge of a case that was totally out of control and perhaps should not have even been brought. Evidence now clearly shows that the Mueller Scam was improperly brought & tainted. Even Bob Mueller lied to Congress! ” tweet Claimed he has a “legal right” to intervene in any legal case for any reason, tweeting: “‘The President has never asked me to do anything in a criminal case’” A. G. Barr This doesn’t mean that I do not have, as President, the legal right to do so, I do, but I have so far chosen not to! ” Trump was responding to Barr’s interview providing cover for his political interference in the justice system. Withdrew the nomination of Jessie Liu, who oversaw Stone’s case and McCabe’s case as the head of the DC US attorney’s office. She was set to be the Treasury Department's under secretary for terrorism and financial crimes. It’s been reported that her nomination was pulled because she did not get more involved in the cases of Trump’s allies. Attacked FBI Director Christopher Wray: “FBI Director Christopher Wray just admitted that the FISA Warrants and Survailence of my campaign were illegal. So was the Fake Dossier. THEREFORE, THE WHOLE SCAM INVESTIGATION, THE MUELLER REPORT AND EVERYTHING ELSE FOR THREE YEARS, WAS A FIXED HOAX. WHO PAYS THE PRICE? is the biggest political crime in American History, by far. SIMPLY PUT, THE PARTY IN POWER ILLEGALLY SPIED ON MY CAMPAIGN, BOTH BEFORE AND AFTER THE ELECTION, IN ORDER TO CHANGE OR NULLIFY THE RESULTS OF THE ELECTION. IT CONTINUED ON WITH THE IMPEACHMENT HOAX. Terrible! ” tweet Attacked former FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe after the DOJ finally decided not to prosecute him: “IG report on Andrew McCabe: Misled Investigators over roll in news media Candor (Lied) on four separate thotized Media Leaks to advance personal RECOMMENDED MCCABE’S FIRING. ” tweet Another: “Disgraced FBI Acting Director Andrew McCabe pretends to be a “poor little Angel” when in fact he was a big part of the Crooked Hillary Scandal & the Russia Hoax - a puppet for Leakin’ James Comey. I. report on McCabe was devastating. Part of “insurance policy” in case I won.... ” tweet Fact check: The IG did not recommend McCabe’s firing or suggest disciplinary action at all. The DOJ dropped the case because a grand jury did not find evidence to bring charges. Even then, the DOJ kept the case open for months with no update - the judge overseeing the case warned that such tactics will lead to the U. becoming a “banana republic. ” Likely played a role in AG Barr deciding to assign an outside prosecutor to scrutinize the case against former National Security Adviser Michael Flynn. Benjamin Wittes: “in reviewing the Flynn case, Barr isn’t simply conducting a review of the decisions of career prosecutors in DC. He’s conducting a review of the decisions made by Robert Mueller. ” tweet Likely played a role in more outside prosecutors being assigned to review other cases in the DC Attorney’s office. From The New York Times: “Over the past two weeks, the outside prosecutors have begun grilling line prosecutors in the Washington office about various cases — some public, some not — including investigative steps, prosecutorial actions and why they took them, according to the people. They spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss the sensitive internal deliberations. ” Is reportedly considering withdrawing the nomination of Elaine McCusker to be Pentagon comptroller after it was revealed that she repeatedly warned the OMB that Trump’s directive to withhold aid to Ukraine was illegal. Despite the viral NY Post article claiming she has already been fired, McCusker states this is not the case. Past history of suspicious interference from Barr’s Justice Department: Barr offered a misleading summary of Mueller’s report. Barr decided to clear Trump of obstruction of justice, even though Mueller had determined he could not. Barr adopted Trump’s talking points on “no collusion” and “spying. ” Barr has traveled overseas to assist in the probe examining the origins of the Russia probe — a key initiative long pushed for by Trump. Barr issued an extraordinary statement disagreeing with an inspector general who said the Russia investigation was adequately predicated. The Justice Department opted not to investigate Trump for a campaign finance violation on Ukraine despite a prohibition on seeking foreign assistance in an election. Barr personally tried to push SDNY away from indicting Turkish bank Halkbank but US Attorney Berman resisted. "Barr personally spearheaded an effort last year to negotiate a settlement with the bank that would have allowed it to sidestep an indictment after Turkey's President, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, pressed Trump in a bid to avoid charges. Berman, however, insisted on criminal prosecution, according to the people familiar with the matter. " NYT: [Turkish President] Erdogan, in a series of phone calls and in-person conversations in 2018 and 2019, repeatedly tried to persuade Mr. Trump to use his power to limit additional enforcement action against Halkbank itself, something the Justice Department had made clear it was considering. After one phone conversation in late 2018, Mr. Erdogan told reporters in Turkey that Mr. Trump had told him that “he would instruct the relevant ministers immediately” to follow through on the matter. Same NYT: Trump “was asked by Rudolph W. Giuliani during an Oval Office meeting with Rex W. help secure the release of a Turkish gold trader at the center of Halkbank’s sanctions-evasion efforts. The gold hired Mr. Giuliani. ” Barr assigned John Durham to investigate the beginning of the Russia probe, though it reportedly is focused on legitimizing Trump's conspiracy theory that a deep-state cabal conspired against him in the 2016 election. According to the NYT: "Durham appears to be pursuing a theory that the C. A., under its former director John O. Brennan, had a preconceived notion about Russia or was trying to get to a particular result — and was nefariously trying to keep other agencies from seeing the full picture lest they interfere with that goal, the people said. " See also: Trump wanted Sessions to unrecuse from "all of it" and prosecute Hillary - see Veddy’s post Trump demanded Sessions retain control of the Russia inquiry after his recusal - see Veddy’s post Sunday morning update: More than 1, 100 former federal prosecutors and Justice Department officials called on Attorney General William P. Barr on Sunday to step down after he intervened last week to lower the Justice Department’s sentencing recommendation for President Trump’s longtime friend Roger J. Stone Jr. They also urged current government employees to report any signs of unethical behavior at the Justice Department to the agency’s inspector general and to Congress. Note: This list is not exhaustive. I wrote it for tomorrow's Lost in the Sauce but cut it out because it was so long - since it was for a newsletter initially, I tried to limit the content to the most important events. Feel free to add more in the comments section. Thank you David Pakman for the shoutout in your video!

TLDR: A group of seniors spend all year fucking over their classmates so I (the teacher) wreck their final semester. This is my first post here, and, for reasons that will soon become obvious, this channel speaks to the depths of my soul. It's also a very long one because I want you to delight in my destruction. The particular flavor of this revenge comes from the fact that everything that goes down is the result of a domino effect that leaves devastation in its wake. Dedication: This story is for anyone who has ever been fucked over in a group project, and I certainly hope you enjoy it. Some details are deliberately vague, because duh and I don't feel like getting sued. *Note: Skip to The Setup if you are in dire need of an immediate Justice Boner My Backstory (Not super necessary, but will give you insight into my logic) I've been teaching for many years, but it's important to understand that in my first year of teaching, I got put on blast by an elite group of EP and their EK. Not a week went by without someone either demanding my job, trying to undermine me or just calling me a piece of shit. I nearly quit halfway through the first semester, the verbal and emotional abuse was so bad. This was at a school in a tough area, so I was accused of racism constantly for asking kids to stop talking, was ripped into for giving failing grades for missing work, and even enforcing the rules in the student/parent handbook got me in hot water (my principal reprimanded me for being a negative influence on the school and was I told that I needed to let more rules slide because he was tired of hearing from parents). I would have parents just show up unannounced to sit in on my lessons and then tell me I was a shitty educator, a bad human being, etc. I have plenty of horror stories from that school alone, but the point I want to make is that this experience defined the kind of teacher I became going forward to my next school. I needed to be that person who was untouchable, because I needed to focus on the one job that mattered; teaching kids. My next school was in a fairly affluent area. It wasn't uncommon for me to find out that my student's parents made millions, which brought its own unique set of problems. However, my new principal was super supportive of me as long as I followed the school's handbook to the letter because, by doing so, I was in line with the school's philosophy and protected by law (we seriously had parents filing frivolous lawsuits all the damn time). This school had long ago learned that caving to parent demands spilled blood in the water and brought the rest of the sharks in droves. My first year at this new school was successful for many reasons, but primarily because the school culture was easily adapted to. By planning ahead, I was able to head off 99% of all negative parents at the pass. The few times a parent tried to rip into me at conferences, I ripped back so hard that I developed a reputation amongst the kids and parents as someone you couldn't fuck with. Everything I did was in line with the rules, and any attempt to take me down got stone walled by my principal who would have to say "Mr. FighterJet is following school policy, so i'm afraid the ultimate decision is his. " No joke, I had some parents in tears because their kid could no longer get an A in my class. I wasn't the teacher who wanted to destroy kids, I just wanted them to be accountable, and sometimes that meant letting them fail. Needless to say, this job became a lot of fun, because instead of waiting to be ambushed by parents, I could work on making my class fun for my students while still teaching them something. I made ironclad rules for the classroom that brooked little argument and would adapt the following year to make it harder for students or parents to ruin my day. I have many stories like this, but this is one of my favorites. The Backstory The year this happened, I taught a HS class with grades 9-12 (that's 14 to 18 year olds for you overseas guests). My class wasn't necessary to graduate, but did count as a core requirement. One of my beginning of the year rules was "I never want to hear 'when will we ever need this? ' because you didn't have to sign up for this class. " How I structure my class is that I try to make students accountable for their own actions. My class was built so that it had something to offer everybody. If you tried your best, you were guaranteed a C. If you worked really hard, you could get a B or an A. I would bust my ass to help a student with any reasonable request. The best example of this was a student was working hard on an assignment and said "I think I understand it now, but can't turn it in on time" to which I answered "Then turn it in tomorrow for full credit. This is how hard work pays off. " Other than a few hard deadlines in my class, I would do whatever it took to see you learn the material. Fuck around in my class? I have already found ways to run circles around the pathetic excuses you throw at your parents for your piss poor performance. It sounds callous, but I was the teacher who would stay for ninety minutes after school to help you catch up, to help fix your project for another class, or even to listen to you cry about your parent's divorce. If I caught you goofing in class instead of doing your work (my rule was that at least 70 percent of class time was intended for homework, quizzes, etc) I would warn you a couple times, email your parents, and then wait and see if they even gave a shit. If they didn't, I would let you keep digging that hole until you were hip deep in water and begging for a ladder. And then I would toss you a rope instead. You could still climb it if you tried hard enough, but a lot of kids would just cry until that hole caved in and buried them. I also utilized my school's online grading/assignment system for nearly all of my assignments, which meant I could document when a student looked at the assignment, how long it took them, etc. All of this allowed me to see what my students were doing, when they did it, and also if they were plagiarizing. This was one of the tools that helped me make important decisions about leniency, and also allowed me to say things at conferences such as "of course the test was hard, your child didn't attempt the nine homework assignments until eleven pm the night before the test. " Being able to prove that a student wasn't trying made it impossible for blame to be laid unfairly at my feet. It also meant the worst kids avoided my class. Bonus. However, this year, something magical happened. Every other year, I would get a wave of kids who just wanted to screw around and blame everyone else for doing poorly. At the end of the year, students would shit talk me, my class sizes would drop the following year, then I would receive high praise from those kids, so everyone would sign up, so on and so on. But this year, not only did I get a giant wave of knuckleheads, but they came with parents who loved to Make Trouble. I had already heard tales of some of these parents. Other teachers were just dying to hear stories about our interactions, because these parents were very much Entitled. They would name drop lawyers when they didn't get their way, try to badger teachers into giving their kids extra credit, and would largely deny any wrong doing on their kid's part. These were the parents who would get called in because their student was busted cheating, then accuse the teacher of making the class too hard, therefore validating their student's need to cheat. So about these knuckleheads. It was a group of roughly seven senior boys who all shifted their schedules to be in the same period with each other. The other teachers could not believe that I had all of them at the same time, but I just shrugged it off. Every week, the staff lounge was dying to know how I dealt with their shenanigans, but for the most part, I had shut down most of their shit from day one. I actually got along very well with them, despite their constant goofing, because they had mastered the ability to appear busy and didn't distract my other kids. Then came the first group project. My class size was just right for seven groups of four to form. The idiot collective formed two groups of 4 (by pulling in a kid who had been absent on the first day of the project). These two groups crashed and burned on this project super hard for several reasons, but the biggest were that a) they fucked around during class time and b) put off a two week assignment until the weekend before and then dumped all the work on everybody else, which resulted in everybody doing minimal effort. I handed out the shit grades and was immediately pulled into parent conferences with several of them (one at a time, obviously). Every meeting was the same. "My kid did all the work, so he doesn't deserve a bad grade" or "My kid didn't understand the assignment" to which I handed over my hyper specific rubric (which is a checklist for how I grade things--I never wanted to be accused of grading based on not liking a kid). These largely went like this: EP: My kid did all the work and I don't think it's fair it should hurt his grade. Me: Here is the work your student turned in. *hands it over* Here is my rubric which I printed and emailed to your student the day the project started *hands it over* As you can see, I have itemized the grading for ease of use. I would be happy to go over the grade your student earned. EP: *Reads through all the evidence, looks at kid* Where are the missing parts? Student: Uh, my group members were responsible for that. Me: I can't grade what I never received, so I can't reasonably just raise your kid's grade. Sorry. Now, good news for all my students. I make assignments worth more throughout the semester with the idea that kids who screw up early on can make it up later by working hard. I seed Extra Credit throughout the semester and all of these parents are disgruntled, but happy to hear that their entitled embryo can still get an A in my class. Now, the end result of these meetings was that it clearly wasn't my fault (remember, I had all this data to prove that I made every effort to contact everybody, etc) so it must be the other kids' fault. So these parents all decide that their perfect angel is no longer allowed to work with their previous group mates. Like a cancer, this failure of friends distributes through the rest of the class. Like the genius that I am, I make my students write a group contract for every project that details who does what and when it is due. Why is this important? Because the contract provides me the documentation necessary to allow me to dismiss a bad group member and give them a zero without their parent shitting all over my day. So here is where the problem begins manifesting. These seniors begin bouncing from group to group like cancerous ping pong balls, wreaking havoc. I let students choose their groups, so these seniors are desperately integrating with anybody that will have them. Because of my class side, every group has at least one coddled child to deal with, and these children just end up rotating until all of my students have worked with one of these seniors at some point. Now I am getting constant complaints from parents of other kids about these boys. Their kid wanted a good grade, which means they ended up doing all the work while the senior slacked. This is usually after the fact, at which time I bring up "I would love to yank that leech out of your grade pool, but you have to use the contract. " Students don't want to say anything because they fear retribution from the seniors, but I can't do anything because I will be accused of harassment. The contract can provide me with the leverage I need to prove that these kids were doing no work, because these seniors have been playing their parents for years. I make my class utilize google docs, because the changes are time stamped. No joke, I've had students produce all the work the morning of a parent meeting to try and lie their way out and make me look like a piece of shit, but that time stamp is a godsend. Luckily, my class is balanced. A shitty group mate can make things hard, but not undoable and parents are appeased that I have an out for their kid, but disappointed that their kid doesn't use it. Every time I announce a group project is on the way, some of these seniors sucker up to the other kids to the point that it is expected that a spot will be made for them. I'm talking buying kids lunch, bringing them gifts, etc. Seriously, the day before a group project starts, all of the seniors now sit at separate tables from each other so that they could pull the "I'm already here, let's be in a group" card (which works most of the time). The strain on class morale is difficult, but I am biding my time. The other students are grabbing at Extra Credit opportunities constantly so that their grade can absorb the blow, and parent complaints are completely mitigated because I am still offering every chance for success, my principal has a copy of my syllabus in his computer so that he can quote student policies that the parent signed off on. Not uncommon for him to hear "I don't read that shit, so it doesn't apply" but he reminds them that the clause above the signature line says "My signature denotes that I have read this document in its entirety and agree to abide by all the rules" or something similar and that this should be a lesson to the parent and the student that when you sign something, you should read the fine print. *If you ever become a teacher, find an awesome boss like this and stick by their side* The Setup So I have seven slothful seniors, but I shall name the worst of these Larry, Curly and Moe. The fallout effects all of them, but these three are the ones whose parents have a boner for Making Trouble. Every time they bully a teacher into compliance, I imagine they sit around a smoking room with cigars and cognac, laughing at how they got their way yet again with a lowly teacher. I know that anything I do will be heavily scrutinized once the grades start falling and I need to be able to shrug it off because I have other shit to do, and I refuse to be the smiling topic of discussion in their celebratory circle jerk. (However, a special note about Larry - since he turned 18, his parents now travel nonstop and are impossible to reach. Larry is now just a huge douche, because his parents no longer care about what he does) I closely monitor their grades in my class, but also in others. This may sound sketchy, but I routinely do this with any of my students who struggle with the material so that I can identify if the issue is my class or all of their classes. Students have been known fake their grades using Inspect Element and I got tired of hearing "But they have A's in their other classes. " because then I look like the piece of shit. Anyway, after a check, I speak with the other teachers. It isn't hard to find out that these boys are doing minimal work in other classes, and I actually discover that Larry has been finding ways to get other kids to do the work for him and then disseminating it among his friends. Other teachers have been bullied into lowering test percentages in their class, and guess what? He and his friends are enrolled in these classes. Despite bombing these tests, HW and Project grades give them a comfortable cushion so that most of them are floating at low B's. I can't prove this (they are using Snapchat) but when I bring it up with their teachers, the teachers don't feel like trying to prove it and duke it out with the parents. Now, they are gaming other classes for minimal effort. However, their only recourse in my class is to keep rotating through groups and leeching off of their hard work to maintain C s and B s, and the other kids are too nervous to utilize the group contract to get them fired. Remember how I mentioned that I steadily increase the value of my assignments to keep kids working and give them a chance to fix their grades? Me: *Random Day in Class* Hey everybody, I was looking in the schedule and realized that your last project before finals may stress you out unnecessarily. Would anybody mind if I dropped it? My class: *Tired of getting banged on Group Assignments* Nope, drop it, Best Teacher Ever! Me: Okay, well just so you know, I'm going to move our next project back a couple of weeks and extend the deadline by a week. Also, since I cancelled the last project, this means that the next project will now be worth roughly 20% of your final grade, so do your best. Screwing this up could kill your grade. My class: So in one step, I have inflated this assignment and also moved it. I send out an email to parents and students letting them know about the change to the syllabus and the assignment. Get no responses other than happiness that I am removing stress from the end of the semester, etc. I actually did this primarily because another teacher (who was a huge douche bag) plunked down a monster project that same week and I knew it would burn out my students prior to finals, so figured a break was in order. Win-win for me, really. Now why did I move it? *4* The Friday before the project started, I announced at the start of class "Okay, I am introducing the project now so that you can get into groups today and we can do it first thing Monday morning without delay, since this project is so important" This announcement elicits a room full of shit eating grins. Why? It was Senior Ditch Day. Our school didn't condone a ditch day, so the kids tried their best to keep it a secret, but i found out a month in advance. All seven of these kids were absent from class, which meant that I had just given the entire room freedom from these dead weights. Immediately, groups are formed, and even better, I had a couple kids transfer out of my class at semester which meant, numbers wise, these knuckleheads will have to work on this last group project together (in two groups). I emphasized that everyone needed to get to class as soon as possible so that they could start as soon as attendance was called. My original intention was to light a giant fire under all seven of these chumps, to get them to actually put in the effort they had neglected to do all year. Most of them had grades in the low C range (except for one in the low Bs). As a bonus to all my students, I put an extra credit portion on this project so that they could recoup their early semester losses, but also allow these seniors to do very well if they put in the effort. This wasn't meant to be a revenge tale, but an attempt to give them one last lesson in responsibility. Before the end of the day, I send out a parent/student notification that the project had been started and that any absent students needed to contact their classmates to establish groups before Monday morning. This was important (as you'll see). I'm sure you can guess what happened next. Immediate Fallout The next Monday, the seniors come traipsing in seconds before the bell to discover that there are only two tables to sit at. Whatever, they take their seats. Me: *After attendance* Okay, everybody has a copy of the rubric, so go ahead and get started. Rest of Class: *Immediately pulls out rubric* Seniors: *looking around frantically* The seniors quickly realized that they have been played and the arguing starts. First thing that happens is that Larry, Curly, and Moe decide that they now belong with whoever they happen to be sitting with and scoot their chairs over to sit with different tables. I catch this right away and tell them that the groups are already at maximum size (4 people per group). The other four seniors are already fighting with each other because they know that none of them will actually do any work. Larry (who thinks he's God's gift to everybody) tries to sweet talk me and his group into special privileges and allowing a group of 5. Now, I see some of the other kids wavering and I know that Larry is putting pressure on them to argue his case. I designed this project for specifically four people and had a job for each one, but I extended a separate offer. "I will let you join, but since there will be five of you, I expect double the work. " Literally, I told them they would have to do the project twice. Larry tries to argue, but I point out the roles I have established and inform him that if four people could do it once, having five should make it easier to do it twice. Sounds like a dick move on my part, but I have now intimidated the other kids into saying Hell No and even have them put it to a vote. Unsurprisingly, Larry is the only one who votes that this is a good idea, and when the other kids catch wind of my offer, they physically shoo off the other seniors trying to pull this deal as well. You will all be delighted to hear that the rest of the period for my seniors is spent arguing over who will work with who. They end up forming three groups and I nod my head, make sure they have the rubric, and then wish them the best of luck. Being the smart teacher that I am, I email Curly's parents and Moe's mommy that they have chosen to work with each other. Moe's mommy shows up to argue with me all the time, but has quickly learned I won't take her shit. At a previous meeting, she even laid into Moe and told him "I'm tired of fighting all these battles with your teachers and I'm starting to think that you're the problem, " but I suspect this is for show. Curly's parents email me back and say they will make sure Curly writes a group contract. You see, Curly has sold himself as the best student ever, and clearly he will do the work and fire his classmates. Moe's mommy immediately requests a meeting with me. Per school policy, I do not have to respond to an email for 48 hours. I wait until hour 47 and email a noncommittal "I would love to meet, when are you available? " and wait for a response. I then wait another 48 hours to inform her of a time the following week that works for me. Now, some of the other senior parent's have emailed me angrily demanding why I let their kids choose to work with "the bad kids" again. I had to inform them that I didn't expect all of them to be absent. Immediately, some of my seniors get burned at home because they ditched and their parents tell me "Just try to help them pass, " which I agree to. Some of them need this class for graduation, after all. Moe's mommy, on the other hand, shows up ready to wage war. She starts by demanding that I put Moe in a different group. I decline, because the project has now been going on for a week and it wouldn't be fair. She demands that I add him to another group. They're all full and students have already done the lion's share of the work. She demands that I let him work by himself with an extension. I gladly offer him an extension and slide a copy of the rubric over to him and he goes white. At this point, he knows that he is never planning to do any of the work. In fact, I know that his group hasn't even started. I have a copy of their group contract which was hastily scribbled in pencil with no due dates on it. He starts arguing with his mom that he would rather work with his friends and that he is upset that he got stuck in this situation. Contemplating this, she accuses me of deliberately waiting until that day to screw the seniors over. After all, it was a school sanctioned event and I'm being a jackass about it and she'll go to the board with her story. Wrong The joy I get from all of my prep work is shutting down bullshit like this. All seven of the seniors hung out on ditch day at her house and told her that the principal had given them the day off. Even better, they called in and pretended to be their own parents so that it was an excused absence. He is immediately busted and his mom flips her switch and jumps all over him. You see, she can keep pressing me on this issue, but I now have evidence that he pretended to be his own dad and this is a suspendible offense. I buy myself into her graces by telling her that I had no idea that Senior Ditch Day was that Friday, but I gave her kid a free extension on the homework that was due because I thought seniors deserved their own traditions, blah blah blah. She buys it. Also, I can prove that I emailed him (and her) and gave them plenty of notice before Monday morning that they needed to pick groups before something like this happened. Obviously, once I found out about Ditch Day I tried to give her precious treasure a heads up, but i don't know why he didn't take it. She makes him open his email. My email is sitting there, unopened, and I have won this battle. She thanks me and takes him home. Class morale is super high, unless you are one of the seniors. A week before the project is due, neither group has actually started and the H. M. S. Class Average is about to hit an Iceberg. The Project Comes Due It comes as no surprise that my enterprising seniors have turned in easily some of the worst work ever. One group got into a text argument the weekend before it was due and made one of the kids do all the work. Larry and Curly are in this group. The other group (with Moe) have also turned in a steaming pile. I make sure to grade these two projects first because I know the fallout is going to be big. All the seniors dropped at least one letter grade. A couple drop two. This is four weeks before graduation. Larry appears to take his F minus in stride (they got something like a ten percent on it), so I know he's plotting something. Curly's parents demand a meeting and so does Moe's mommy. Curly's parents are super upset that they got a bad grade and demanded to know why. What they didn't know was that I had already met with the student who did the entire project (poorly) and his parents. I informed Curly's parents that I had seen the text exchange between the seniors that pretty much ended up with "You fucking do it. " Curly refused to turn over his phone to his parents for confirmation. I also show them Curly's project and hand over the rubric. Mom and Dad are not happy. You see, Curly has been blaming everyone else for his mistakes since the dawn of time and his parents have bought in completely. Until today. Dad pointedly asks "Which part did you do? " and this causes Curly to spout actual tears. I then pull up a spreadsheet of all of the group project scores from the year (with no student data) and have highlighted his scores (which are among the worst). The purpose of this was to use data to prove that their son, frankly, never does the work. Curly is absolutely destroyed by this. His parents kick him out of the conference because they are tired of his excuses and ask me what they can do. I tell them I would be happy to offer one on one tutoring and that he can still pass the class if he does his homework and gets a B on the next exam. They agree to this, we all shake hands, and they leave. Curly's story largely ends here. He never shows up to tutoring, and I email his parents. After three emails, his dad finally responds with "His mom and I have decided that he needs to learn to be an adult and are leaving him to his own devices. Thank you for your efforts. " Curly will spend the rest of the semester doing little to no work. Because he is grounded at home, he is now just watching youtube videos on his phone during school. The ripple effect is glorious. because now Curly is doing this in all of his classes. I speak with his teachers and they all email that he has quit doing work in class and get the same reply I did rather than the vehement responses they are used to. When Curly fails his classes, he still graduates, but his parents have informed him that they are no longer paying for his college and it's time to get a job. Moe's mommy flips her shit and demands answers. Unfortunately, Moe is in the same group as Curly and she gets the same answers from me. Strangely enough, once she's exhausted every effort and attempt to somehow blame me for this, she admits that she knew Moe was part of bullying the lone senior and that he should be ashamed of myself. She deliberately tried to play me but outed herself once she knew that i already knew everything. Super annoying, but I agree to help tutor him one-on-one, which makes her happy. Long Term Fallout Moe's mommy is emailing me every few days now. "Is my son doing his work, did he get help with his homework, etc. " Non-stop, but she knows better than to fight with me. Larry is unusually chipper, and is no longer doing his work. I find out that Larry is supposedly going to a college where he just needs to maintain his GPA over a super low number. He claims an F in my class won't change anything, so I make sure he doesn't distract the others. Moe shows up only occasionally, but strangely enough, Larry pops in "just to say hi" whenever Moe is getting help. I can't fathom why he does this, but suspect he is up to something and already have a backup plan in place. You see, Moe's mommy is nuts, and I make sure that there's always another person in the room with me when I tutor him. Anyway, Moe's mommy is constantly checking in. I start waiting 48 hours between emails (cause I can) and she starts dropping by in person unannounced to check on him (me). She's been acting cagey lately and I'm starting to suspect something. It's fucking Larry. Larry is a friend of Moe's, so he's been in her home feeding her made up stories to convince her that I have been emotionally abusing Moe when other students aren't around. Stuff like I was calling him a retard after school, etc. and then telling her "you can even have the school check the cameras to see that I'm there. " This starts a whole thing where she is now demanding answers from admin. BUT! Mr. FighterJet is smart. Admin asks me about details regarding my interactions with Moe and I end up sitting down with my Principal, Moe, and Moe's mommy. She details that Moe is struggling, might not graduate, and that she believes that I have singled her kid out for abuse and wants his grade raised. You see, Moe is dumb and lazy, and his mom is just as bad. When Larry went to her with his story, she never bothered talking about it with her own son. He just agreed and went along with it, so I asked Moe point blank to please describe what has been said during our sessions and then offer to leave the room so that he can tell the principal without me there. She tells me to stay because she wants me to hear from her son what I've done to him. What neither of them knew was that I was a mentor teacher. That meant I had a first year teacher as my mentee (not a student teacher, but a new hire that works with a veteran teacher to learn the ropes of our school) and I had her working on grades and such in my room after school (you need so many contact hours) on the days I agreed to meet Moe. She was young, so Moe thought she was another student and never questioned it, and couldn't even remember that she was in there. My Principal already had statements from her detailing my interactions with Moe, and Moe was unable to give any actual details and suddenly forgot what had been said to him. This lands her in hot water with admin, and she blames the whole thing on Larry and becomes visibly upset that she fell for such a stupid ruse. This results in an email cautioning teachers from being alone in a room with either student. Suddenly, after school help evaporates for both, but hey, I always have someone in my room, so whatever. After that meeting, Larry is now suddenly super concerned about his grade. I rationalize that he was hoping to burn me out of my job and then use the fallout to get a free passing grade. Obviously it doesn't work, so fuck Larry. I have kids who actually want to succeed. My free days are now on days I know he works, and he never shows up for tutoring anyway. Now that other teachers are hesitant to meet with him, he is unable to cut deals to raise those grades either (seriously, teachers fell for his change of heart spiel every semester). Moe's mom makes a last ditch effort and tries to convince me that the parents of the seniors have scheduled a meeting with my boss to have me fired for giving their kids a bad grade and that she would be willing to put in a good word for me if I meet with her first. I'm sitting next to the principal when I get this email (through an app on my cellphone) and he has no idea what she's talking about. I tell her I'd be happy to meet everybody but that I would probably eat my lunch during such a meeting and that I hoped people didn't mind the smell of fish. I got a "no, seriously, they are threatening to sue you" but feigned stupidity and informed her that I couldn't be sued for eating fish during a meeting. She now realizes I give zero fucks about anything and can't be threatened. Again, there's nothing she can do because I am simply following policy. The last few weeks are frantic for these seniors. One by one they fall, because they've done little to no work for a couple years now and they have no idea how to apply themselves. Other teachers are emboldened by how hard I shut them down and finally hold them accountable. A few of them just barely manage D s in my class, the rest fail. I get a few last second squeaks of "What can I do to raise my grade? " but have now documented that none of them attempted the extra credit assignments and that was their chance. It's hard for a parent to shit on you when you can prove you actually tried to give their student extra credit (and can then prove they never opened the assignment online). These guys are now failing some of their other classes. A couple have breakdowns in my class and leave crying. Their friendships are fracturing with each other because they now all hate each other for what happened (which they will get over during the summer). My last test came and I made it an online multiple choice test. It was easy enough to have the questions and answers shuffled in random order, meaning they couldn't cheat off each other. You see, I knew for a long time that they would sit next to each other to try and cheat on the exam, and Larry had blown a ton of money on a tutor to try and carry his friends. This throws them all off, and when Moe's mommy accuses me (again) of trying to trick her kid with a much harder test, it was easy enough to shoo her away with a simple email. Larry passes the exam, but his grade moves up to a meager D minus. The Results If you're still here, congratulations on dealing with my wall of text. Here are the results. Of these seven seniors, one didn't graduate and had to transfer schools (his parents were embarrassed that they paid to fly the whole family out for a graduation that he didn't get to take part in). Two of the seniors lost all of their scholarships and could no longer attend the schools they wanted. Their fallback plan was to attend the same school together and become roommates, which they did with three of the other seniors (including Moe). I do have some after stories, because I still work at this school and occasionally here from the kids who graduated. Larry's college was not happy with his final GPA. I'm not sure what his long game was, but it sucked. The college kicked him out before he could even start, and I found out his huge web of lies extended to his parents too. He toured Europe over the summer and tried to surprise his parents by coming home instead of going to school. Apparently they kicked him out immediately after because they were selling their house to get a condo somewhere else (remember, they travel for work all the time now so wanted to downgrade). Last I heard, he made up a story that he joined the military but got released due to a made up illness. (I say made up because I heard this tale from three different people, and each one was given a different disease) Curly's parents relented and decided to pay for Curly to go to college after all. Curly got kicked out halfway through the year (got busted more than once for underage consumption) and then kicked him to the curb after living at home for a year and refusing to get a job. Last I heard, he works in a vape shop. Moe went to school and used his book smarts to try and pay other kids to do his work for him (his mommy is rich). When that failed, he faked his grades to get his mom to keep footing the bill. Eventually the school kicked him out and he moved back home. The story his mommy told a friend of hers (who I ran into at a school function) was that he decided that he would rather be an entrepreneur than go to college and that he bought a drone to film weddings with. Last I heard, he was acting as a distributor for his weed dealer but had moved up to selling acid on the side. His mommy thinks he is working weddings. One senior went to college with his friends and immediately realized he needed to change. He quit hanging with his friends and, last I heard, graduated with honors in a lucrative field. He emailed me once to thank me for challenging him in HS, because it prepared him for college, so that was nice That’s it, the end. Thanks for reading, and if you ever had a teacher you loved, send them an email, we love hearing from our children Edit: [Teacher name] is that you? I'm obviously never going to answer these, but there are at least a few teachers out there like me, apparently I wish I had a teacher like you. Yeah, same. My advice to new teachers is be the teacher you needed when you were young, and always have emergency snacks for kids who don't have food. You're horrible and should quit teaching Oh no, my feelings. Internet people who don't like me. Get fucked. You're part of the problem. Everything I did was to protect the interests of the other 20 kids in that class who wanted to work hard and learn and those seniors had every opportunity to improve their lot in life. I spent nine months counseling students whose grades had tanked because of these yahoos, and nine months of being begged by parents not to let their kids work with these boys. I saw a chance and took it 4. You should tell more stories I really don't have that many teaching stories that would fit here. I'm actually considered the nice, laid back teacher at my school who you simply don't mess with (though I do get pranked all the time) Edit2: Thanks for the kind comments, but there is still a very angry minority who are just certain I am a huge piece of shit based on how I treated a group of seniors. To reiterate, it's impossible to judge my entire career by my efforts to hold a small group of students accountable for making everyone miserable Edit3: Why so many projects? My school adopted a Problem-Based Learning curriculum. I have to do a big project per unit, and I have 6 units in the year 2. You're a bitch/cunt/psychopath This sub reddit is Pro-Revenge. I have hundreds of success stories, but this isn't where to share them. Quit walking into a horror movie and bitching that there wasn't enough romance. I love my kids to death I'll leave you with this. Many of you are saying thanks, but you should thank a teacher who made a difference in your life. Buy them coffee instead of purchasing Reddit bling, or write them a short note And if you're still so keen on hating my guts, find that special teacher in your life and thank them for not being a F1ghterJet. Hopefully they will never need someone like me.

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