A velvet fist in an iron glove.
My English teacher would have said, "Are."My advanced math teacher, after stumbling into class in an alcoholic haze and spending ten minutes ogling the girls in the front row, would have said, "It's fourteen, you idiot!"And then half the class would zone out, not because they didn't know the answer, but because he'd spend more time focusing on the breasts in the front row.My high school math teacher was a drunken perv. Inspired me to become a writer.
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