Because we like to start the day on a completely disheartening note, let's go look at this cool thing where teachers can have the awesome privilege of taking out a loan to buy basic supplies for their job. Now, we're not talking about how you took out that loan for your MacBook Air because you pretended you needed it for work but actually just watch porn on it. No, we're talking about teachers having to take out loans so that their classrooms have
Paste is more filling, and better at silencing the growling of a hollow stomach. It cannot however fill a soul echoing with despair and bereft of the hope of a useful and meaningful education or of any opportunity in life. Perhaps try eating notebook paper, which is also an excellent source of fiber.
The office supply company at which I&#039;m a contractor has a school supplies donation program. Interestingly enough, it works with participating <i>teachers and classrooms</i> rather than with the schools, districts or boards. The only way to ensure that the supplies don&#039;t get lost, diverted or absorbed by the politicos and bureaucrats is to deliver them directly into the hot, needy hands of the teachers and classrooms that will be using it. There&#039;s a big day when bus loads of teachers and kids arrive at the corporate HQ, get t-shirts and lunch, and happily carry out cartons of stuff. It&#039;s kind of like a big party.
The correct interpretation of &quot;We can&#039;t just throw money at the problem&quot; is &quot;Throwing money at the problem doesn&#039;t <b>guarantee</b> good results&quot;. This is obviously true.
What the no-spend bozos ignore is that &quot;Not throwing money at the problem pretty much guarantees <b>no</b> results&quot;.
The money, she is not sufficient, but still motherfucking necessary.
No snark. In 2012 California voted for a tax increase specifically to fund our schools (Prop 30). Yesterday, Governor Moonbeam unveiled his new spending plan: our schools are getting $6 Billion in deferred payments. Administrators now have the joy of figuring out how to spend instead of how to cut.
Ooh! Oooh! I can!
Or tango.
And it&#039;s gluetin free.
Paste is more filling, and better at silencing the growling of a hollow stomach. It cannot however fill a soul echoing with despair and bereft of the hope of a useful and meaningful education or of any opportunity in life. Perhaps try eating notebook paper, which is also an excellent source of fiber.
I always wanted to rewrite the Dire Straits song: &quot;Money for nothing and your summers free&quot;.
The office supply company at which I&#039;m a contractor has a school supplies donation program. Interestingly enough, it works with participating <i>teachers and classrooms</i> rather than with the schools, districts or boards. The only way to ensure that the supplies don&#039;t get lost, diverted or absorbed by the politicos and bureaucrats is to deliver them directly into the hot, needy hands of the teachers and classrooms that will be using it. There&#039;s a big day when bus loads of teachers and kids arrive at the corporate HQ, get t-shirts and lunch, and happily carry out cartons of stuff. It&#039;s kind of like a big party.
The correct interpretation of &quot;We can&#039;t just throw money at the problem&quot; is &quot;Throwing money at the problem doesn&#039;t <b>guarantee</b> good results&quot;. This is obviously true.
What the no-spend bozos ignore is that &quot;Not throwing money at the problem pretty much guarantees <b>no</b> results&quot;.
The money, she is not sufficient, but still motherfucking necessary.
No snark. In 2012 California voted for a tax increase specifically to fund our schools (Prop 30). Yesterday, Governor Moonbeam unveiled his new spending plan: our schools are getting $6 Billion in deferred payments. Administrators now have the joy of figuring out how to spend instead of how to cut.
Go figure.