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

Monday, September 27, 2010


Prepare to puke at the pure saccharine nature of the following video. It combines a number of my unashamed loves... A kid, dancing, rock 'n' roll, and a flash mob type of dance routine. Cute idea and well executed. Sorry if this is a really old viral. I'm slow to pick up on things nowadays with how rarely I can just surf the 'net in between the millions of other things I should be doing...

Saturday, September 25, 2010

The Battles of the Sexes

I'm quite a polite person, by nature, so it takes a lot before I raise a complaint to someone directly... Piss on the floor is apparently a big enough issue to me that I decided to address my concern to the suspected piss-artists, so to speak.

This year, I was moved to an entirely different part of the building, and my new room contains its very own staff toilet. Sharing the room with a guy, and sharing said toilet with three additional guys who all work in the same hallway, I realized this was going to be an experiment in sociology that could either go completely wrong, or be a delightful contradiction to what I feel to be an archaic practice of gender segregation. The result? Piss on the floor. And on the seat. Stinking up the place.

It wasn't until one of my students ventured into the bathroom to get some toilet paper to blow his nose (okay, okay, I'll remember to take in some tissues at some point) and he said "I bet you hate sharing a restroom with some dudes because it stinks of pee in there" that I decided it was time I said something. My resolve was fortified by the fact that I later went in for a pee and found myself staring down at the ground between my legs and seeing an enormous puddle of urine... I then stood up and felt the cool air reveal the pee I had sat on and hadn't even realized until I stood up, making me feel even more eager to voice my concern to said parties.

I wrote them an e-mail. In it, I apologized for being the clich├ęd complaining female but that the enormous puddle of pee which I managed to have absorbed by our normally nonabsorbent paper towels just didn't sit well with me and wondered if they could improve their aim and leave the seat up.

The next day, the gent I had always suspected of being the phantom puddle depositor came in and as he passed me swiftly announced "I've figured out what your problem is... You need to learn to pee standing up." He went in, and slammed the seat up. Upon leaving, he said he was "just kidding". When he came in later in the day and my roomie was also present, he decided to repeat his fantastic gag and then went on to ask how I cope with my husband.

"He sits down, actually."

"What? What's wrong with him? Does he have a va-jay-jay?"

"Nope. My step-son sits too."

"Man, it's just like my wife... She's always complaining about how I get it all over too..."

I didn't go on to say what I was thinking which was "Wow, doesn't that give you a clue that the problem doesn't lie in the women around you, but in your shitty pissing skills?" Heh. Shitty pissing.

There are still puddles, but at least the seat it up every time I go in there. Now I'm just patiently waiting for my period to start again so I can leave used tampon applicators in the garbage can. Last time, I wrapped them up neatly. This time, I'll make sure they're highly visible, because as the great Bugs Bunny said "This means war."

Saturday, September 11, 2010

An Idiot Abroad

I've been waiting for this... I watched the preview below and laughed until I cried more than once... I love Karl. He's so honest, so witty (intentionally or otherwise), and so... Round-headed...

Saturday, September 04, 2010

Nothing but Class at the House of TeacherLady

My 4 year old decided to give her own rendition of "You Can Fly" from Disney's Peter Pan, only she replaced the word "fly" with "fart". My husband and I gave a brave attempt at not smiling noticeably or laughing out loud, but failed miserably when tears came to our eyes.

The 1 year old is also learning the basic undeniable fact that flatulence is funny too. Every time she does it, she gives a startled "oh!", grabs her diaper with one hand, and then starts to giggle.

I need to preoccupy myself with such trivialities, otherwise I'll start thinking about the Democratic Republic of the Congo again and thus feel the urge to kill someone. If you'd like to offer a helping hand to the horrifically abused female population of the country, please stop by Women for Women International and donate some money to help a woman help herself and her family to rise above the atrocities of war. Some of the money is also be used to education the men in the region, as so many of them abandon their wives out of disgust that other men had "used" their wives or shame that they couldn't prevent it from happening.

I look at my kids and my heart breaks thinking of women who can't even protect their own from the vile behaviors of man, all over the world... I hear my kids laugh and I wish I could bottle that up and share it with every mother and child who was cheated out of that joy.

I love my kids with all my being. It makes me wish I believed in a hell because all those sick bastards would have a special level all to themselves.