The tale of garbage breath.

There is a kid at my school who I nicknamed garbage breath. I did this, because his breath smells like wet garbage on a hot summer day. The kid is one of the weird ones, he gets beat up by the other students, and wanders the hallways alone.

He often comes into the teacher lounge, or my classroom and bugs me for a while, wondering if I like kimchi, or the Samsung Lions. As he struggles to express himself in broken English, he pulls his hair, shouts about how stupid he is and hits himself in the head. If I ignore him, and try to concentrate on working on lesson plans (really looking for funny shit on the internet) he looks over my shoulder, breathing his hot garbage breath next to me. He often asks me to look at his favorite baseball team (go lions), or for US baseball games online. I hate baseball, and tell him that I cant and I have to work. I count the seconds until he leaves the vicinity.

Despite how annoying the kid is, last year I told the head English teacher that he was one of my better students.

"But he is not a good student. He has row scores."

"But he tries, he may not speak english good (thats how I talk to my co-teachers), but he tries harder than everyone else. That is why I think he is a good student."

On friday the kid came into my classroom to talk to me.

"In Elementary school, I hate Englishee."

"Oh."

"Last year, I hate Englishee."

"Okay." I felt a little insulted, since I started last year, albeit at the end of the year.

"Now, I rike Englishee. Englishee now fun." Then he shouted "Yay Englishee" and did a little victory dance.

This is the condensed version, in reality, it took close to five minutes of hair pulling, screaming, stomping and breathing garbage breath on me. Still I was flattered. I have not gone out of my way to be nice, or help the kid in any way. I don't give him special treatment, or pay attention to him at all in my classes. All I can figure is that I dont treat him like shit either. I don't beat, berate or punish him.

Go figure.

Dinner

As you all know, I do all the cooking at my house. My wife could ruin a bowl of cold cereal. Since I am working extra hours (theoretically speaking of course, if I were in Korea, which I am not.) and not getting home until after 6pm, my children and sister in law decided to help out, and planned to make dinner last night.


I was relieved and excited for not having to make dinner for once. Unless we have gone out to eat, or if there are leftovers from the previous night, I prepare something every day.

Lately I have been employing my children as kitchen helpers and thought it would be great for them to fly solo for once. I left them my credit card to buy groceries, and after a long day of work (four 45 minute classes and two after school classes of watching the simpsons) I came home looking forward to a hot meal.

Well the kids wanted the dinner to be a surprise, and refused to tell me what they had planned to cook. Had they told me that they wanted to make a pinto bean soup, I would have advised them to soak the beans over night, or begin cooking them at least two hours before they planned dinner. So I got home to a pot a beans just starting on the stove. They had prepared all the vegetables and ingredients to add to the soup, but just started the beans.

I played fallout 3 while waiting for dinner, (I have lost about 1 1/4" inches off my waist allowing me to download an expansion pack), and the delicious smell of sauteing garlic and onions wafted from the kitchen.

A hour later, my wife who was now ravenous, decided to go help them in the kitchen (bad idea) and promptly broke my $100.00 blending wand that I bought from homeplus 3 months ago. After I fixed it, and blended the beans into soup, the chefs went back to work.

Another hour passed and then a terrible smell began to waft from the kitchen. They had managed to do the near impossible and burned soup. The smell was absolutely foul, and yet they continued on, the flames on the burner turned all the way up (to cook faster!), and absolutely bewildered as to why this was happening.


My wife hates change, and adores routine. When she does grows accustomed to things, she likes them to be that way from then on. Many, many people enjoy my cooking and it is often suggested that I open a restaurant. In fact that is a dream of mine. My wife has grown accustom to that caliber of cooking. So when the kids and sister in law brought out this burned, sweet tasting (they overdid the sweetener, how Korean!) cinnamon, bean concoction, with overcooked broccoli (she detests that), she struggled to say encouraging words to the kids.

"Well, it does not taste that burned..." or "This certainly is interesting..." was all she could muster.

The kids loved their recipe, and enjoyed it wholeheartedly, as did I after smothering it with chili pepper and a generous amount of salt.

Then I prepared my lunch for the next day. Since we don't eat school lunch, and it was almost 9pm when we finally got dinner, I packed some of the soup. My wife who has to pack her own lunch (its a tough life) asked me what I put in my lunch.

"The soup of course."

"Really?"

"Yes"

"Nothing else?" She said, desperation creeping into her voice.

So my wife packed a tiny amount of soup in her lunch, with a large slice of bread. She is extremely happy that I will be cooking dinner tonight, as I have no after school classes today. However, tommorrow and Friday are different stories...

Extra classes

Had I not been run out of Korea by the Kongoloid, expat mafia, I would be working extra classes now. If I were still teaching (which I am not) I would now have an extra 8 hours of class each week. The head englishee teacher (if I was still working) would have told me yesterday that my extra classes started that day. I would have had to have to have lesson plans for four classes, each 2 hours long, and teach the classes immediately following the next 3 classes with barely a break.

If I were still at my school, yesterday would have been a very long day indeed. I would have had the kids work in groups, creating englishee names so that I could call roll, since I cannot pronounce, remember or read any of their names. I would have been positively bewildered as to why the simple activity of writing one single name per student last two whole fucking hours.

If I were still there, I would have received a list of names, some normal, some bizarre. There would have been students who picked names like, Alice, bobby, jamie and of course there would have had to be at least one Bella (fuck you Stephanie Myers). Then there would be the odd ones, Chupa chups, and lollypop (chuppa chups being of course lollypops), Marshmellow, William Wallace, and Duck.

Some of them would have written cute little konglish sayings on their name tag, for instance Duck might have written "I'm men" and "Not bird, I'm Men", Alex could have written "I'm student. Mr. Awesomecool teacher is very hansome."

Of course having a 15 minute break before the class and one 45 minutes later, half of them would have needed to use the bathroom, and could not possibly hold it. Then of course some of them would try to get me to let them leave at the break, wanting to go home and get beaten by their parents for leaving the class that they have to pay for early. Being a kind and decent teacher I would have told them "no" and to sit down and "finish writing your fucking name".

But I am no longer in Korea, so none of that ever happened.

Back home

Like the average Korean male, our time was short in Korea. We are once again back on our native soil in America. We fled from threats and intimidation born from Korean expats who, could not stand their own country enough to stay in it, but for some reason object to foreigners living in it.

I found out that a foreign English teacher will not replace me, so those of you netizens who were worried that their children would suffer from not being beaten, not being ridiculed, and being treated like human beings by the hands of another foreign dog need to worry no more. Instead I will be replaced by a somewhat famous Korean national, so rest assured, they will be receiving the treatment you have come to expect from your educational institutions.

What a fool I have been, I shake my head at my own stupidity, for the longest time I had truly believed that they liked me here, when in fact they were only lulling me into a false sense of belonging only to pull the rug out from under me later. I had not realized how like their fellow countrymen and women in California they have hated my guts since I started. Like the time the Principle and Vice Principle told me that I was one of the best teachers at the school! How foolish I was to believe them. Or when my co-teacher (whom I now know was mocking me) told me I was a really great teacher, and that all the students said I was their favorite teacher. And is my face red, for believing that when the Vice Principle asked me to renew my contract for another year, less than five months after starting, and not realizing that she was being totally insincere.

I now know my students will feel better now that their least favorite teacher is leaving. No more will they shout "I love you!" or "Mr. Awesomecool is our favorite teacher!" in the middle of class or hallways in voice dripping in incredibly well hidden sarcasm.

Well I know when I am not wanted, or at least I do know, thanks to the Korean expats in California, who obviously have a better handle on what is best for people who actually live in Korea. Of course, who would no better than someone separated from the situation by entire ocean. So I can only imagine the looks of relief on the faces of my students and co-teachers when I did not show up for work yesterday, have fled on the first available flight out of Korea.

One thing I have learned from this experience, and from the Korean people is how to use sarcasm. It seems to be a useful tool, for indirectly telling someone to fuck off.

Ran out of town

My wife and I have been forced to pack our bags and leave Korea, forever. An upset Mongol expat in Palo Alto, California, who apparently loves the black man has been threatening us. Personally I blame black Mike, who pretty much wrecked the woman for any Korean men. Curse you and your big black cock!

She has reported us to the Korean netzizens, who since they have a lot of free time since they don't need to take care of their children, have all the free time in the world to track down and harass us hard working NETs.

They are threatening to break into our home and steal all our kimchi and soju, as well as increase the amount that they vomit disgusting, pink puke in our stairwell and around our apartment building. They are also claim they are going to step up the beating of their wives and children in the apartments around us late into the night, so that we too will be so deprived of sleep that we will find ourselves blacking out on subways and buses, and probably in our classes too.

"Actually I'm writing very legitimate post here.
As a taxpayer, I have a right to kick low class scumbag like you from teaching our kids."

Apparently her paying taxes in California, gives her the right to dictate who the schools in Korea fire and hire. Since my wife and I show up to school sober, attend classes and don't beat the students, it is obvious that we are unfit to teach. Our apologies to all the staff and students who we are letting down by leaving so early, but what can we do? The citizen of California has spoken.

My first!

I feel so lucky! I got my first threatening comments from an anonymous douchebag today! I feel like my blog has reached the next level.

Unfortunately the comments were from a pedophile rapist, who decided that the proper way to display his countries magnificent culture was to threaten my family. Korea sparkling!

From the tone of his comments he was insanely jealous of my magnificent wife (who he seemed to intensely adore), and I because of our daily contact with the wild mongol youths of this fine country. I had to delete his comments about wanting to rub up against all the boys in my classes, they were a little too graphic for my readers.

He will be glad to know that because of his encouragement we have decided to stay here another year. And who knows maybe at the end of the second year we will renew our contracts for a third year, so we can greater influence the thirsty young minds of this country!

So here's to you and all your pedophile rapist friends! May you and your mongol cohorts always find yourselves waking up covered in soju vomit, buried up to your knecks in carelessly discarded trash of your fellow countrymen. God knows you deserve it!

This is brilliant.




This is fucked up.