Nathan Macintosh

Welcome to the website for comedian Nathan Macintosh! 

You can find show dates, Videos, Blog, Instagram, Twitter, Album 'I Wasn't Talking', and Podcast 'Positive Anger' 

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I was expelled.

I was at one point, expelled from high school. I was told to leave the building for the rest of the year. Told to get out of every class, and the entire school. I was expelled in May. Less than 5 weeks before the end of the year. Expelled. What did I do? Did I threaten somebody? Did I come to school with a bag of kitana blades and hold up the cafeteria?

"Alright, that's it! Give me all the oatmeal chocolate chip muffins or I'm ninja-ing this whole place!"

Nope. I was expelled because I talk a lot. Well, on their side, I was expelled for disrupting class. Disrupting class at that time, with that vice principal, got me expelled. EXPELLED! Grade 12. And wasn't able to fight it. I had to go back the next year and do it again. I needed a bunch of credits. I don't seem like the type of person who would be expelled. Just to put it in perspective, another person who was expelled that year had maced a guy in the bathroom and stole his chain. THAT guy was expelled. AND me. For disrupting class. Not really the same thing. There was a guy that year who punched the vice principal in the face, did not get expelled. I brought that up to the vice principal when she was expelling me. She was PISSED about that.

'I'm being expelled? The guy who punched you must have been deported.'

She stood up, yelled, and slammed her desk. Is that a smart ass thing to say? Sure. Is it crazy that attacking people and talking are in the same wheel house? To me, yes. Here is more of the story. 

That year, I talked. This is what I did. I had a great time, left my shell that I was in before, and I talked to everyone. People liked me. Teachers liked me. Not all teachers, but most. Some, like my Canadian History teacher, were not fans of me. He really wasn't into me. I used to ask questions all the time. He would hand us a Canadian History textbook, tell us to read chapter four, then get into groups and answer the questions. So, if we're reading and answering questions among ourselves, what is this man doing? That didn't make sense to me.

'If we do that, what are you doing?'

'Just do it.'

The term 'Just Do It' might be cool for Nike, but in school I could not deal with it. I would ask tons of questions about it. Tons. Just do it is not an answer. So I would question this man, and he would kick me out. Kick me out of class. I'd go to the office, they'd say, 'what in the hell are you doing here again?'. and I would tell them what happened. They were not fans. But to me, I just couldn't understand why you weren't allowed to ask questions. Why not? Is this not a school? CAN QUESTIONS NOT BE ASKED?! Written in a Gladiator tone. And yes, I get it, asking a teacher, 'what are you doing?' could be deemed offensive, but this teacher would do this EVERY day. Get us to read a chapter, then get into groups and answer questions. You did this a bunch of weeks in a row, and you go, 'this guys doing nothing! He's not teaching us, we're teaching ourselves. What are we coming to this class for?'

My math teacher wasn't fond of me either. Why? Because I'm asking questions. That's just what I'm doing. One day she said we were doing quadratic functions. I asked when we would need these later in life. Her response?

'Just do them.'

Well, I couldn't do that. Couple more questions later, and I'm in the office. Couple more day of questions and now I'm doing math in the office for good. For good! Kicked out of the class and told to do my work in the office. Just insane. Put by myself like Hannibal Lector. 

'Woa. That kid is in a room alone having math work passed under his door to do. What'd he do? Bite someone's face?'

'No. He asked why we have to do quadratic functions.'

'AAAAhhhhhhhhhhhh! Man that's horrifying. Glad this animal is locked up.'

So, at this point, I'm kicked out of math, and on last legs in Canadian history. Now, an interesting thing happens. One day in Canadian history, our teacher plays a movie. A movie, about Canadian History. That's as boring as it sounds for people from Canada. It's also made in Canada. If it was made by Michael Bay, it might have some kind of budget.

'Get into that birch bark canoe!'

BOOM!

'How the hell does birch bark explode!?'

BOOM!

'Now the maple syrup?!"

Anyway, the movie is on, and I put my head down on my desk. And has sometimes happens when you do that, I fell asleep. Slept through the whole thing. I woke up, and on my way out of class, the teacher calls me over to his desk. I'm thinking he's going to get mad at me for sleeping. Nope.

'Nathan, look at this piece of paper. This is how many times I counted you talking. 2:45, Nathan talking. 2:47, Nathan talking. 2:52, Nathan talking.' 

'Um, I'm not trying to be rude, but I wasn't talking, because I was sleeping.'

'Do you think I'm stupid? I know you were talking. Go to the office.'

So, I'm back in the office. I have to tell the vice principal that I was sent there for talking, which I wasn't doing because I was sleeping. And that was that. She expelled me. I asked her if I could speak to the principal. She said no. She was yelling at me in her office. Very loud. Then, opened the door, and became very calm. As she was walking me to the door, I said, 'I'm calling the principal, I'm calling the school board, and basically fuck you.' I was frustrated. In my head at the time, left no options. I went home, and called the school board. I told them my story, and they told me that she couldn't expell me for being kicked out of class, and that they would call her and call me back. About five minutes later, they called.

'Hi, Nathan. Did you swear at her?'

'Yes. I said fuck you, and that was be...'

'Well, it doesn't take much does it.'

'What do you mean?'

'There's nothing I can do for you.'

They hung up. I sat there very confused, until a few days later when a cop showed up to my door, asking me if Nathan Macintosh was home. 

'That's me.'

He looked at me like I was crazy.

'Well, I don't know what you did, but the vice principal is scared for her life. Said you threatened her. You have a peace bond on you. You can't go within two hundred feet of the school.'

'Are you kidding me?! I didn't threaten her! I said ...."

'Doesn't matter. That's what has happened.'

So, there I am. expelled from school, kicked out of a play that was nine days from that moment. I was sent the expulsion papers, and they said that I had threatened her, and that's why I wouldn't be allowed back. It also said that I was disruptive as I didn't have a father. This letter is one of my favourite possessions. 

This is a longer story short, but basically because I swore at her, she spun that into an actual reason to be expelled. I went back the next year, and graduated with honours. The vice principal had been promoted to principal of another school. I saw her a couple of years ago on a flight. She looked at me, had an acknowledging glint in her eye. Out of the deal, I got expulsion papers that I'll probably frame, and she got principal. We did it. 

twitter @nathanmacintosh

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