BHI English Club: Week 8

Thanks to Paman Tyo's post, and after some 'serious' conversations with those ol'-yet-funky guys in W3 a night before, The Bitch Teacher had a 'normal' material for her class tonight. Though there were only Mas Hedi and Tante Ai presented, still they had fun.

Tonight's subject was I've got to comprehend, taken from the lyric of Simply Red's song, Star, that The Bitch teacher suddenly remembered. The class had four stories that they had to retell with their own words. All of the stories are taken from an old copy of Reader's Digest Asia, February 1984 edition given by a charming person who tend an old, shrewd, gloomy, stuffed secondhand book stall next to Blok M bus station where The Bitch Teacher frequently spend her times reading without buying anything.

And here they are:

Made of Irony
Helene Hanff, author of 84, Charring Cross Road, first went to New York City nearly 40 years ago after winning a playwriting contest. She wrote about the result of that contest:

The Theatre Guild knocked its brain out training 12 of us to be playwrights because the year before we won our contest, two other contest winners had been given their fellowship money and went wandering off on their own. The Theatre Guild knew this was very bad because playwrights didn’t need money as much they needed training, so they held seminars for us and went to all the plays on Broadway and we took lessons in how to produce, write, act, and direct. And when the year was up, everybody agreed it was a great success—except that not one of us ever became a Broadway playwright.

The two writers who had been given the money and went wandering off on their own with no training were Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller.
— Underfoot in Show Business (Little, Brown)

Birth Daze
While in the hospital after having our first child, I kept the baby in the room with me so my husband could hold, feed, and play with her when he came to visit. One day, while he was changing the baby’s diaper, a nurse came in to make the bed. “Well, Daddy,” she asked, “is this your first?”
“No, my second,” my husband answered.
“What do you mean this is your second?” I asked heatedly. “We don’t have any other children!”
“Oh!” he replied, rather embarrassed. This is the second time I’ve changed the baby’s diaper.”

Note from Mom
Daughter of the universe,
Child of the atom age,
Goddess of Sagittarius,
Dancer of the stage,
Daffodil or buttercup,
Chaser of a dream,
May I ask one thing of you,
Before I have to scream?
Gymnast, jumper, acrobat,
Gazer of the moon,
Would you mind so terribly
To PLEASE clean up your room?
—Charlene F. Williams in Toledo Blade

Overcured?
Barney had a terrible problem with dandruff. He had tried all the remedies but nothing seemed to work. Finally, in an all-out effort to cure his condition, he consulted four different barbers in a single day.

The first barber treated Barney’s scalp with a green tonic. The second barber used red lotion, the third barber a blue cream, and, at the last shop, the remedy was bright purple. Three days later Barney told a friend that his dandruff had disappeared.

“Terrific!” was the reply. “I’ll bet you’re really happy.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Barney. “Now I’m bothered with the confetti.”
—Bill Lawson, quoted by Alex Thien in Milwaukee Sentinel

As the closing, the class had to watch a footage taken from Youtube to learn about the word that had made a tagline in this bloody shitty page. Wanna take a peek? Here it is:




It was one of the quietest and most normal class they had. The Bitch Teacher could not have one of those no more or she would gone mental, for sure.

Have one hell of a weekend, Peeps! They said they shot the terrorist, yet, nothing to worry about but your happy asses. Haha!

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