Random acts of thoughtlessness. That would be me. Here's a bit of the stuff rattling around my head tonight.
My Little Pony has surgery tomorrow morning. He has to be there at 8:15, so I'm guessing it will be somewhere between 9:00 and 12:00.
I wish I had a dollar for every time somebody told me, "You tell such great stories about your students. You should write a book." Because then I would have about...oh...$20, and I would use it to buy some lottery tickets and a real book that would make me laugh. Something along the lines of Bleachy-Haired Honky B*tch.
The school fundraiser pick-up was much more organized this year. I was in and out in under 10 minutes. I especially enjoyed their hi-tech manner of calling for the packages. The one taking the money would tell another one which number belonged to the pile of boxes, and she would scream at the top of her lungs, while standing right next to the payer, mind you, "NUMBER SIXTY-FIIIIIVE!"
Sometimes I think my eyes will roll out of my head and onto the floor when I hear some of the comments made by my students. Such as, "Hey! Fauntleroy! Remember that time you came over to my house and we all threw poop and pee at you? That was SO funny. You guys should have seen him trying to dodge it. We put the poop on sticks to fling it at him. He ran off after a while."
I'm going to catch me a lurker next week. A kid who asks his teacher to go to the bathroom, then stands outside my door ogling his 'girlfriend'. Dude. She's really not that into him.
The fundraiser French Silk Pie is actually quite delicious. Until you accidentally get a bite of crust. Ptoooey! Crust is not my cup of tea.
We have to leave home tomorrow before we would leave on a regular work day. Somehow, I feel cheated.
If sighs could kill, I would be a mass murderer. Forgive me for not dressing up in costume and rapping the lesson to command the students' short attention span. I'm ready to start a back-to-basics education movement. I'm going to look for a guy like that pink underwear, baloney-serving tent-prison warden to run it.
ER is about to start. THE END.
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5 comments:
"... We put the poop on sticks to fling it at him. He ran off after a while."
Gawd, where did they get it from??
Hang on! I don't wanna know.
Forgive me for not dressing up in costume
Just the pink royal crown should do it.
Hope everything goes well for #2
Lantern,
Oh, you HAD to ask. They went out in the yard and pooped. Guys are like that, apparently. 16-year-old guys, anyway.
The Royal Crown of Hillmomba is for business use only. I can not be wearing it to my day job just to garner attention from the future of our nation, as the future sits slack-jawed, daydreaming of pooping, and of flinging poop sticks.
Gal,
Thank you OH SO MUCH. He is fine and dandy. I put the story on Friday's blog.
I'm ready to start a back-to-basics education movement. I'm going to look for a guy like that pink underwear, baloney-serving tent-prison warden to run it.
Speaking as someone who actually uttered two lines of rap today in a desperate effort to make them care, I would love to be the bearer of the pink underwear at your new prison...err I mean school.
Meanie,
I can't believe you sold out to the rap crap. But then again, you have a different classroom clientele than I. Perhaps I should start my lessons with "You know you're a redneck if..." That would grab their short attention spans by the ear.
You bring the pink underwear, and maybe Mrs. Coach could kick in some free cheese for the sandwiches so we could save on the baloney. Oh, and you could practice your rap, and I could save on showing them the Disney Channel.
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