Monday, June 04, 2012

It's a Boomer (wild) thing


Picture a world in which you get almost all the way through The Music Man, only to find out that Marian the Librarian has a thing for kinky sex and arouses herself by gazing at magic-lantern pictures of Harold Hill's . . . baton.

So to speak.

Welcome to Omaha; we'll show you around. And then we can then slide on down I-80 to central Iowa to the horndog digital world of a 21st-century schoolmarm -- Des Moines' former- and Omaha's almost-superintendent, Nancy Sebring . . .
complete with throughly modern, thorougly naughty "magic lantern" shows.

Who knew what passions which lay beneath the plastic-rim glasses and sensible suits of the plain-Jane, middle-aged educator?
And you thought spanking was yesterday's news in the public schools.

Not only that, but who knew what entertaining reading would result from the
Des Moines Register's simple public-records request to the local school district for any emails Sebring sent or received mentioning "Omaha"?

Who knew that a professional reporter could be dumber than the ceaseless horde of amateur journo-bloggers who --
we are told -- are no substitute for "real" journalism, as practiced by "real" journalists at "real" newspapers? Don't answer that.

That's a lot of questions floating around in one measly blog post -- one by an amateur idiot, no less, who's no substitute for his betters at
The Daily Blab. Not that he particularly cares to be.

But I do have one answer. Hire more horny schoolmarms and let them talk dirty to --
and traffic in Favreian crotch shots with -- the guys they're screwing instead of their husbands, let them do it during office hours and on school computers . . . and you'll get people critically interested in public education again. They won't let Junior withing a country mile of a public school, but the more adventuresome of America's parents might like to make the Fun Teacher's acquaintance.

Not to mention the Fun Superintendent.



I MEAN, read this stuff. After I did, I kept thinking of the "nurse" who showed up at Ferris Bueller's house in the movie . . . but school administrator-y:




BUT CAN she take his (censored) home to meet the family? Is his (censored) in love with the Fun Superintendent, too, or is this just another "third-rate romance, low-rent rendezvous"?

Mainly, I'm just picturing Nancy Sebring standing at the altar with a giant penis.
Is that wrong of me?


I DON'T WANT to imagine how Nancy's Special Friend might attempt to type a reply if he did.



O!
Dear. Me.

You get the drift, and you get the staggering, incomprehensible stupidity involved in a) doing this s***, then
b) emailing about it incessantly on the job, while c) using your company email account and your company computer, when d) you work for a public entity subject to your state's open-records law.

All entertainment value aside, Omaha is lucky a reporter in Des Moines was paying attention to this stuff and not susceptible to being "suckered," as the Los Angeles Times put it. We dodged a bullet.

Though one might feel compassion (above and beyond the compulsion toward snark) for a reputedly talented educator who now must oh-so-publicly -- not to mention pubicly -- stew in her own hormonal juices, one "fun" fact trumps all: Nancy Sebring is too much of a "Fun Superintendent" for her -- or our -- own good.

Stupid is as reckless does.

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