FoxTrot Classics by Bill Amend for August 22, 2020

I never thought of that when I was going to school. Stupid typewriter.

When he wrote home on his missionary service to Puerto Rico (and to me on my New Mexican mission), my older brother’s handwriting was at times illegible; couldn’t tell if it was English or Spanish.

Hubby was a lefty and sometimes he couldn’t even read his own handwriting.

He’s gonna grow up to be a doctor. (Although I guess that doesn’t matter any more now that medical records have gone electronic.)

Fill up a blue book, no teacher will bother to read it all and give you a passing grade.

I worked with an advertising agency as a secretary/assistant proofreader. There was one man whose writing was so bad, I was the only one who could read it (you should have seen my mother’s!), so I always got his work…and even then, I sometimes had to ask for a word to be cleared up.

With every teacher I’ve ever known that would be fully an F!

Did anyone else notice the little story going on in the poster behind his head?

About 7th grade I tried that. The ‘rents called down to school, I was dragged into the office, principal asked “What does that say?!?” I answered "I don’t know." – which is, in fact, what it aid, but was read as wise-assery (which I confess, given it was me, was not an entirely unreasonable assumption). Earned me a typewriter & a year of monthly sit-downs with the school psychologist; hey, it beat going to class………..

it’s because of assholes like him that penmanship counts on essay tests

Peter studied under Jerry Lundegard ( the movie Fargo).