A few days ago, I had occasion to have drinks and food with my friend, the Princess; her boyfriend, the Puppy; and their friend, the Energizer Bunny. The Energizer Bunny and the Puppy are both cute and huggable, with inexhaustible supplies of energy. Luckily, they got to talking to each other at one point, and the Princess and I had a few moments at our own pace to catch up. 

She was concerned that she’s going to lose her job as a university writing tutor, based on the fact that she doesn’t go to staff meetings. I can see how this would be a problem, but she has a pretty good reason to skip them. No work is discussed—rather, the tutors sit around and bitch about how dumb their students are. 

Now I’m conflicted. I have a kneejerk reaction against this behavior. Sure, ten years ago, I liked nothing better than to take our campus literary magazine, The Spectrum, and set fire to it with my blazing sarcasm; but ten years ago, I had also dyed my hair black and wore it in a ponytail. People change. Besides, these students know they are bad and want to get better. That ‘s noble in and of itself. 

But still, my sanity is preserved at this job by making fun of it constantly. Hell, most of these essays are titled the brilliant mistakes from my authors (you can tell which ones they are by the quotation marks, by the way). My publisher, as a vanity press, is making dreams come true, and they come to my department for help. And this is how I repay them? I am such a hypocrite. 

So I beat myself up. Then I come to lines like these. These are clearly not typos. They are genuine expressions from the souls of the writers who pay to have their material printed: 

* “Like magic, the pain went away as I spanked the chicken.” 

* “Jesus could not have died on the cross for the sins of the world if He was not crucified.” 

* “A lot of prostitutes believe that they might as well get paid for sex, instead of having sex for free.” 

* “I am in love with my perfectly sized penis.” 

* “I have seen some interesting rashes in some interesting places.” 

Now you see why I am so conflicted?