Disclaimer: Some content is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age or those offended by swear words, references to sexuality, atheism, and libertarianism.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Press Button, Receive Bacon.

If only....

Where's The Sexual Harrassment Panda When You Need Him?

I was nervous when I found out which math teacher I was going to be working with this year, because he has a bit of a track record of saying inappropriate things and usually in front of students. He's not malicious, just doesn't THINK before he demonstrates a case of chronic verbal diarrhea with a side of stupid.

If the first day is any indicator, I'm going to be in for a great year:

Student Who May Have Had a Speed And Peanut Butter Sandwich For Lunch (but that's beside the point): I don't wanna do this... *complain, grumble, etc*
Captain Inappropriate: Do you need a hug?
Student: Huh?
Captain Inappropriate: Because I'm not giving you one. *Puts on a show of "masculine" strutting*
That's what Miss. TeacherLady is here for, hahaha.
TeacherLady: Uh... Excuse me?

Yep, that's what I do. That's m'job. Actually, my job is going to be to try to keep my dear colleague from making an ass of himself while at the same time making sure these kids understand the finer points of 9th grade algebra and geometry. At least it's a step up from last year's doozy:

Student: My sister is going to be coming over to the high school next year.
Captain Inappropriate: Is she hotter than you?

Even in all my feminist glory, I could see that his intent was to try to tease her into feeling like she was in her sister's shadow, but he couldn't fight his inescapable need to say the absolutely wrong thing, at the wrong time, to the wrong person. He couldn't have done worse if he had gone to an orphanage and asked the kids what they're going to do for Mother's Day.

I like him, so I'm going to have to think of a way to save his ass before he offers it up on a plate, complete with garnish and a dessert menu.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Oscar Wilde He Is Not, But...

9th Grade Social Studies Teacher: You better make that phone disappear.
Repeater Student: What, you want me to do a magic trick?

I have no idea how that teacher didn't crack a smile at that one. I guess knowing that you'll have to deal with that kind of "wit" all through the year would help anyone fight the urge to grin. I'm so glad I wasn't in the room when that one happened, I would have snorted like a dying camel. It's just a shame the student didn't use his keen intellect to pass a 9th grade history class the first time around.

No Reservations


I've got a fairly recent guilty pleasure... I love watching Anthony Bourdain's show, Anthony Bourdain No Reservations. He has one of the coolest jobs I've ever seen... He's a chef, he's an author, and he's a traveler. He goes to places from the exotic to the perceived-to-be mundane and tries the local dishes that can range from gourmet to the fare of those in abject poverty. He can appreciate the perfect hamburger just as much as the perfect pan-seared foie gras. He's no snob, and I love that about his show. It's unpretentious and often laughs at itself.


One of his experiences I envy the most was in Brazil. He and some rich chicks went to a lady's house whose job it is to cook and entertain paying company in her own little home. The sang, danced, drank, ate, ate, ate, and then all took a nap on a big bed with all the innocence of a collection of kittens. How perfect would a day like that be?

Monday, August 27, 2007

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter The Staffroom.

It's funny how it doesn't take long for the yahoos to make themselves known on the first day of school. During the tour of the building, one of the football-jersey-wearing upstarts boasted loudly that he already knew where the weight room was. The science teacher on my team was quick to put him in his place:


"Really? You'd never be able to tell. What were you doing, sweeping up in there?"


He's already earned the respect of all those in earshot of that exchange.


I kept a lookout for the eye-rolling, the loud tutting noise I've grown to hate (it sounds like a sharp, saliva-laden intake of air through the front teeth), and the obvious defiance following an instruction from the teacher.



The 9th grade meeting that followed in the auditorium is probably indicative of the kind of crap we're going to endure for the rest of the school year. It was an unmitigated disaster.

It only got worse when our new principal unwittingly let loose an unfortunate double entendre. Some of the younger teachers struggled with their composure at that point. I just felt bad for him.

Laughter rippled until it got louder, and his standing there glaring at them only made matters worse because they read it as defeat instead of shock and annoyance. He even braved letting them have a questions and answers session with three very frightened upper-classmen. They looked as though they were prepared to dodge beer bottle projectiles.

The Q&A session ended when it was revealed that not one of the questions showed an iota of intelligence, and one even went up to ask if there were any "playa haters" in the house, with his shades over his beady eyes, and his shoulders shrugged with "gangsta" pose as best as his gangly body could muster.

I've seen some loud kids I think I'm going to enjoy this year, and I've seen some who may be on the receiving end of a TeacherLady style verbal smack down, but all in all I'm not entirely hopeful. But I'm a special ed. teacher, so there's always a little ray of hope!

(Watch for edits when I realize this grade is actual a heralding of the Apocalypse and that I should have abandoned all hope the minute they screamed their way through the doors.)

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Holy Flaming Penis, Batman!

Women can be very nasty to the men they hate.

Oh wait. Another penis story, but this one is made better by the addition of the words "dwarf", "glue", and "vacuum cleaner".

Monday, August 20, 2007

Oh My Freaking God, NO!

I hate a news story that you KNOW you shouldn't laugh at, because it involves someone's death, but you.... Just... Can't.... *snort*.
Oh I'm so going to get struck by lightning. This is awful. My symathies to the family. And my kudos to the reporter for not sticking in a final statement of "Now THAT's what I call a sticky situation!"

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Female Circumcision? Not Today, Thank You.

I had no idea female circumcision was this prevalent in Egypt... Let alone doing such a bad job of it that they're killing 12 and 13 year old children with it... I wonder how accurate their statistics are on the number of married women who have undergone this "surgery" because it sounds awfully huge... 97%?? Any Egyptian women reading this care to give their two cents?

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Pure Decadence.


My husband and I tried some of these alcoholic choccies from Chasers' Kentucky Chocolate on our travels and they were beautiful. I don't tend to enjoy liquor at all, but was pleasantly surprised by the balance of booze and bliss in these delightful little treats. They weren't overpowering but they give a pleasant little buzz.
Kentucky had another fantastic Epicurean offering in the form of the Whistle Stop. They had the best damn meatloaf I have ever had the pleasure of serving my mouth. It was topped with skinless tomato pieces that were sweetened somehow and it was fantastic.
Great. Now I'm going to be really bummed out by my crappy microwaveable entree.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Muppets Again.

In direct reference to my previous post in which I mentioned how the Henson company used to have such a healthy attitude towards the entertainment industry as a business, I must direct you to this charming pitch reel they made in an attempt to get The Muppet Show on the air. Henson's tongue-in-cheek commentary towards patriotism, religious importance, and the value of something as petty as money made me grin. Of course, Henson was an astute business man who knew that he needed money in order to do what he loved, but I always perceived his drive to mainly come from his love of spreading joy and simply having a blast doing what he did best.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Don't Sell Your Soul To Disney.



Have I really grown into the jaded, grumpy old cow I always swore I would never be? I've just spent four days in various Disney World parks in lovely, skin-blistering Orlando, and I could barely see the gleam I once thrilled at for the sheer magnitude of marketing. Just about every ride was sponsored by another huge business, making me wonder if Disney had to pay for anything beyond repairs and the doubtlessly nominal wages for their tortured staff... Even the paper towels in the bathrooms were proudly sponsored by Brawny.
What was really sad was EPCOT. There was an "attraction" that implied itself to be a tour through a house of tomorrow, with gadgets only the brilliant minds at Disney would come up with that would spark the imagination of budding future engineers and so on. Instead, it was a prettily set up ad campaign. Everything in the "house" was already invented, for sale, and you could get a flier on each company's product at the end of your sales pitc... Uh, I mean tour.
Instead of cry or get angry, my husband and I simply stifled our snorting as best we could throughout the whoring of various really cool products, especially when our tour guide made those sweeping gesture more befitting those grinning bints on game shows as they indicate the lovely three piece suite the contestant has just won.
We already knew Disney had sold out, but we didn't know Disney had turned its whole theme park into a business brothel!