NOT FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED: Tales of Crazy Possession and Lethal Obsession

That was a long disappearing act, wasn't it?

OK, now that I'm back, I shall at once fulfill my promise, the promise of showing up after two days or so (whoops...don't tell me you didn't see that!!!) to post some stuff to clarify my previous post about our teachers—or basically, Pisay life (ROCK!!!)—a promise immediately broken—by nobody else but me. Still, I invite each one of you to join me as I lose myself in hyperity (whatever it is you call the state of being hyper) and tell stories (not tales!) about my awesome, fantastic, amazing, incredible... in short, COOL teachers...

Let's begin with Sir Alfer, my "interesting" English teacher, outright fashionista, king of the dance floor—the subject of my past post. Pale complexion, glasses askew... simply awesome (says the friend peeking over my chair)... what more could you ask for?

Nevertheless, the right to that question does not belong to me.

Next one up is...