A Guest Blog By Gevin Kant

I demanded a Guest Blog entry from my old psychology teacher from high school, Gevin Kant.

His handlers allow him an hour a week in front of a computer at the mental institution. Usually they put an Etch-a-Sketch in front of him and he's content. This time, however, he demanded a computer.

Quick background of Gevin Kant: Mr. Kant, or Mr. Golf Course as the students called him due to a strange obsession with golf courses and gardening implements, received Teacher of the Year twice in a row from the Albakurkee Public School system. He makes a bitchin' stew. He coaches women's junior varsity skeet shoot, and is an active member of the mental institution glee club (Gleeful and Crazy their group is called).

So, without further ado, I present...

The Guest Blog From Gevin Kant
So Ryan Medinski, my old student. A good boy, except for all that cursing he does that sometimes makes me a wee tad uncomfortable, and itch in awkward places. Ryan Medinski has asked me to write a guest blog, and how could I refuse such an offer from such a good-except-for-the-cursing boy?

The answer of course is that I couldn’t. So here I am, reminiscing first about how he was so engaged in my, er, psychology class, back in ’78, that he felt it necessary, when I wasn’t looking, to use the goddamn scotch tape from my desk to tape my pencils to the desk, the discovery of which frequently resulted in my emanating, audibly, a phrase like, “Ryan you mutherfucker”

Oops! Did I just curse?

Ryan Medinski, such a good boy, but sometimes you want to curse around him, or because of him, and is that what is going on with the ladies? I don’t understand his difficulty with women, to which he alludes constantly. I can tell you that every time we would speak, when he still lived here in Albakurkee he usually had an anecdote to relay on about why the most recent girlfriend and Ryan, such a good boy, had broken up, like, “she didn’t like it when she told me that her cat had died, and I laughed,” or, “she didn’t like it when I removed all my body hair with a belt sander in a rite of penitence,” or, “I can’t stand that hoe.” I could never understand why he didn’t like a hoe, because my wife uses one in the garden, and it works really well with the weeds and whatnot, so maybe he didn’t like the way his girlfriend hoed her garden, or maybe she wouldn’t let him plant his seed, or something like that, but now it seems as though his difficulties emanate from his job, and I think to myself, “Why didn’t Ryan go into MY field – you know, psychology?” which perplexes me still, since he was good at psychology and he worked hard at it, though maybe not hard enough since he obviously had time to tape my writing implements to the goddamn desk, that little pissant motherfucker.

Ryan, such a good boy. It’s so nice that he has a blog.