I had a ninth grade English teacher — a dead ringer for Mr. Feeney — who wore these exceptionally pleated pants, so pleated they gave him a pear shape. And he had an aversion to “boy feet,” so in that 1994 heyday of Tevas and Birks he’d go around doing “shoe safety checks.”
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Seems like he should have been reported.
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He introduced us — or at least me, 75% of the room was asleep — to the films of David Lean and Powell/Pressburger so for that I’m in his debt. Really liked feet

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