Yo tengo el gato los pantelones! Guest Post by Tyler Tarver
I am so lucky to have Tyler Tarver as a guest blogger today. Tyler’s awesome blog is called chaos meets capitalization. I wish I thought of that, but that would imply my brain would work like Tyler’s and Tyler’s brain does not work like mine. In fact, Tyler Tarver’s brain does not work like anyone else’s brain. Which might be why I like him so much. He thinks in metaphors. And colors. And he raps. And he teaches. And he has published books! These are all qualities that I admire. Plus, did I mention he is wicked funny. Wait, do I sound like I have a little crush on Tyler Tarver? It might sound like that, but really I just wish my brain worked like his. Like a little bit. Like on weekends. Or even once a month would be fine. It would be cool to see an MRI of what is going on in Tyler’s head. Because his synapses fire. Seriously. Can we make that happen, T? Enjoy Tyler’s memory of his Spanish teacher then follow him at @TylerTarver. (He digs stalkers.) Also he wrote an awesome book that he is selling here.
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Yo tengo el gato los pantelones.
That’s literally all I know after two years of high school Spanish. I’m not even certain it’s correct and I learned it from Blue Streak starring Martin Lawrence. I’m fairly certain it means “I have a cat in my pants.”
So you know where I stand, this is not a story about how much I learned in Mrs. Harris’ class, but how much freaking fun it was and the kinda crap we got away with like DB Cooper (huge crap stealer).
First, how’d I get a Hall Pass to Mrs. Harris’ heart? Easy, I took up for her when the class tool was bashing her about grading something wrong. My spider-senses started tingling and I knew she was about to cry, so I tell the kid to shut his face, she said she’d fix it. Boom, I’m more her favorite than The Notebook.
I think Professor Jacobson wanted me to talk about someone that made a difference or made me who I am, but I was forged in the fires of Mt. Doom, so no credit due to anyone.*
*mostly bull crap, except for parts based in fact.
So, here’s some stuff we did to make Mrs. Harris laugh, make some memories, and mostly make her distracted so I didn’t have to learn a useful subject like la Espanola.
- Scotch taped my binder, pencils, and book to my desk. Along with her stapler, tape dispenser, picture frame, and flower vase with flower. Why? Just in case we lost gravity but I still wanted to el learna the wordsa of la Spanishas.
- Made her authentic Spanish puppet dirty dance with her sweet tea (one hand on da butt and one in da drink, like da playas do).
- Make that authentic Spanish puppet do the same with the side of Mrs. Harris’ head.
- When she left the room, we turned off the lights and adjusted the overhead light with a sidewalk outline of a person wearing a crown. So when she walked in, we flipped the light on her and blasted the radio up and everyone in the class started singing “HERE SHE COMES MISS AMERICA…”
- Reenacted a story about a momma dinosaur who wanted to make in on her own in New York city via shadow puppets.
- Squirted Arby Sauce in a compartment of her desk and drank it out with a straw.
- Proceed to throw up the aforementioned Arby sauce plus previously consumed school biscuits and gravy into the trash can in front of the class.
My personal favorite prank I got to perform needs some setup.
Our school burnt down my 10th grade year, so classrooms took place in these real classy trailers that smelled like moist feet with hair. Hobbit feet I guess would be a visual, moist Hobbit feet in an older buttered croissant roll. So, we would have to walk outside from class to class. Okay, that’s all the setup I got, I might have been wearing blue. No, it was yellow. Classy yellow.
Regardless of shirt pigment (maybe black, it brings out my eyes, the center part), I leave from my class and head straight to Harris’ and place an official looking piece of paper on her door stating, “Mrs. Harris’ class needs to go to the library.”
(We didn’t.)
After sitting in her class by herself for about 10 minutes, she walks outside to see what’s up.
Let’s just say our class enjoyed our 10 minutes of free-time playing Minesweeper in the library.
Sorry, no big punch line or hook. Except that after I graduated, Mrs. Harris because Miss Harris and now she’s Mrs. Tarver.
I made that very last part up.
But I’m sure she’s still cool.
The End.
So what teacher did you crush over and what did he/she do to make you love him/her?
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If you have writing chops and are interested in submitting a memory about a teacher you had and can explain how that person helped you (or really screwed things up for you), as well as the life lesson you took away from the interaction, I’d love to hear from you! Contact Me. Essays should be around 700-800 words.
If you write for me, I’ll put your name on my page of favorite bloggers!
Right now I would like to have a wallet with some money in it in my pants. Yo no tengo dinero in mi pantalones.
i want to be in those pants. wait? money, i want money.
Tyler! I love that you are here today! This is such a different take on a favorite teacher memory! You rock! And knowing you, you probably roll, too! 😉
thanks for letting me squat
It was fun to hear from the class “charmer”. There’s one in every class…
thanks you for calling me a charmer and not “that annoying guy”
I was in love with Mr. Ruggerio in middle school. He was my science teacher. I was such a chatty pain in the ass, and — apparently — I was a little confused about social cues.
I was certain that his throwing an eraser at me meant he loved me.
I was sure of it. Until he gave me detention. 😉
Broke my heart, that guy.
Awesome post!
I’d like to take credit for being the charmer, but I can’t. I can take credit for being the guy who told our French teacher to eff off. Repeatedly. Codeine is a hell of a drug… I had broken my arm my freshman year and was pretty loopy on said drug for most of the day. It would wear off just before her class. Let’s just say I was a bit tired and grumpy and that she had the most annoying voice this side of fingernails on a chalkboard. It was always fun to stand up, look her in the eye and yell, “Would you PLEASE shut the EFF up! I’m trying to sleep.” No idea why she never kicked me out of class or sent me to the principal…
My 8th grade French teacher used to write “2:40” on the board every day to indicate the time detention would start. My name was always there underneath.
Man, I’m SOOOOO glad I’m not the only one…
because she was in love with you
This dude is hilarious! I’ve watched his videos before and they’re totally funny. He should just bag the whole teaching thing and go to Hollywood and wait tables until he gets a night show gig. That would be my advice.
Steve:
Isn’t he a hoot! I’m glad you’ve seen Tyler around the Blogoshere. He’s got some good stuff goin’ on!
wow thank you, maybe i should just wait tables to make more money.
Psssstttt Renee… He is hot! WHAT???
I know, totally, right? Eye candy 😉
bleh, looks like a doodoo flavored Popsicle.
I officially share your crush on Tyler Tarver. Amen, melissasobo.
thanks, it’s the math, it really works for chicks, and by that i mean it never worked for anything ever.
I would have totally sat next to you in math class.
I would have given my left arm to go to school with you, Tarver.
I would have totally scotch taped your left arm to my back and pretended to be Goro from Mortal Kombat.
Fun memories, Tyler 🙂
I started to write about my “crush” here, but it started to get really long. Maybe I’ll send it to Renee.
No no! Write it here! 😉
mr. pheney from boy meets world?
I love that reference! LOL
Now if my students played those kind of pranks on me I would assume they disliked me/hated my guts. Sauce in the drawer? puking in the waste bin, dirty dancing puppets? Deceiving her while you play mine sweeper in the library? That to me doesn’t say crush. That says taking the piss because you have no respect for your teacher. But maybe I’m weird.
erroneous on all counts. all in love, true love.
Yeah, there are certain classes where that dynamic just works. I have a great class this semester. But then no one has tried to lock me in a closet.
Maybe because there aren’t any closets. 😉
Oh, the Miss America one killed me! Love it. I was a boring, obedient child in school. I think my most risqué move was in college, when I named the title of an English paper, “You Should Give This an A+++.” I know. Watch out. Rule breaker, right here.
shanking people and taking names, that’s what i’m talking about.
I never had a hot teacher. Not a one. So I went out and married one instead.
can’t find one…make one! booya!
You really went all out to show how much you cared, didn’t you Tyler? Well done my friend, very well done! I wish I’d been so bold in school as to make such grand gestures. Sadly, I wasn’t… I’m sure that was going somewhere. Maybe to the Principal’s Office…
I’m rather proud as I see Tyler Tarver here on the site of my original fryber. My legacy truly is complete. I feel like the grand marionette of the blogosphere. So basically, it’s all about me. Did you say something Tarver?
Don’t mean to cut your strings, Clay, but I actually met Tyler through Leanne. 😉
Is that you puddling there on the floor? You gonna be okay, fryber?
No puddling here. How do you think Leanne met Tyler 😉
Oh ho ho! You really are da man. Maybe we should start to play Six Degrees of Separation to Clay Morgan.
Your like the new Kevin Bacon.
Madonna, the one formally married to Sean Penn. How can we get from her to you in six steps? 😉
Madonna? We dated a bit back in ’99 while she was filming the video for Beautiful Stranger. Nice kid 😉
What about THE Madonna?
Love this post. But I think that spanish literally translates as: I have the cat the pants. Or at best, I have the cat’s pants. Try: Yo tengo un gato en mis pantalones.
I use to prank my fave teachers too. For awhile in high school my friends and I were in a secret group called the Traveling Toilet. We went out late at night and TT’d teachers and students every weekend. We would place a toilet on the lawn of the target and a random collection of other yard goodies: army men poised for battle across the sidewalk, old movie posters, XL undies in the trees, buttons scattered in the driveway, stuffed animals, salt and pepper shakers, whatever we could find. It was a small town, and exceptionally easy to find old abandoned toilets. At one time we had 7 toilets and one urinal. Jealous? 🙂
Teacher crushes? Most of my teachers were women, but I’ll say Professor Kopp in college. He had salt and pepper hair and I fell for him when he said he bought old hardcover books at garage sales cause he couldn’t stand them being forgotten about. That’s adorable.
True story: In college, I thought my tennis teacher was super cute and very distinguished looking with his gray hair and mustache. He was also very forgiving of my poor playing and never flinched when I lied and told him, several times each month that I missed class because of a disgustingly heavy period. Now here’s the strange part, my cute tennis teacher became my father-in-law! (He’s now my ex FIL, but I still love him!)
Boom, I’m more her favorite than The Notebook.
Even if the rest of the post hadn’t been awesome (which it was), this sentence alone would’ve been worth it. Bwahaha!
My biggest teacher crush was actually on my martial arts instructor. I wish I could remember what had me so infatuated with him that dating him as a “secret” for several months seemed like a good idea, but now I look back and go, “Um, what?” 🙂