The lady (her name is Kimberly) works at a private school for little (rich) kids. Often times, she comes home from work and shares with me these stories of hilarity. Mostly involving the weird and silly things kids say. Kids of the younger persuasion are the best types to hold a conversation. They really do say the craziest things. The other day, she told me of such a conversation. Continue reading “Stuff Your Kids Say: The Dinosaur Kid”
If you’ve been a loyal follower of this blog over the past 2.5 years, you’d know of my struggles to get into graduate school. Well, all these years later, I finally got into a school’s graduate program; Florida State University in fact. This summer semester marks my first entry into the program and I will be enrolled full time for the span of a year.
But I’m not here to bore you with that.
It’s about 1:31am on Monday morning. I’ve been in the library for about 3 hours doing school related work. A few minutes ago, the lady gets up to go to the bathroom – normal procedure. When she gets back, she smiles and says, “You’ll never believe what I just saw in the handicap stall.”
I’m thinking she saw a battleship someone forgot to flush, or maybe a used-maxipad artwork splattered on the floor. Never had I ever prepared for what she actually saw there.
“There was a pregnancy test just lying there.”
“Really? Was she pregnant?”
Gladly for us, meaning “the world”, this girl was not pregnant. Because anyone who takes a pregnancy test in the public library at a fine university just shouldn’t be blessed to breed.
No Abortion for this Student! (6/2010)
Let me preface this by saying this story may upset some of you. I’m sorry. It deals with the simple issue of teachers having sex with students. While I understand that some of these stories in the media stem from force (an issue I am certainly not discounting); this particular tale deals instead where the relationship happens because of consent from both parties. You see, I was brought up in a way such that I was the only one responsible for my actions. My mom never blamed anyone for anything wrong I ever did. She didn’t blame society, video games, or the music I listened to. And I love her for it. Parenting today, however, believes not in these things. They put responsibility on anything that isn’t their own kid or even their crappy parenting abilities. Fuck that. So if this story grosses you out or makes you angry, sorry, but you’re probably part of the problem. Regardless, pass this to your friends.
The parental front has taken a rather huge hit in recent years. Part of the problem here is that we have babies raising babies. You’ve heard that saying before. I’m currently 29 years-old. I teach kids who are only 12-13 years-old. Some of their parents are younger than me, which means they had their child at 15 or 16… how mature do you think they were?
I taught high school for a year. Freshman, 14-15 years-old. It was pretty excruciating – especially since it was my first year. Brutal. That isn’t to say I didn’t have any good kids, because I did, but I was teaching all lower level kids. A lot of them had no support at home so their educational lessons went wasted. That’s a huge part of the problem because 50% of the educational process happens at home, no matter what you think. If you don’t support and encourage your child’s education each night, you’re going to lose them. If you don’t care, they don’t care. And if they don’t care, the classroom will be full of degenerates.
So check on your kid’s education. Take an interest in what they learned and make it all seem special and important. Only you can help shape the next president or writer or astronaut or scientist. We don’t need anymore toothless fast-food employees. We have enough.
But this isn’t the moral of this tale. I was rambling, you crazy ramblers. Let me get to the point.
There has been a lot of stories in the media about teachers forming sexual relations with students. It happens more and more often as time goes by. Being a teacher myself, I could never understand how a person in my field could bring myself to have sex with someone they help educate. Not to mention the fact that these kids are underage. That doesn’t seem to matter to these people though. Regardless, students are not to be our friends and lovers. They are children with a desire for education. How can the responsible adult try to change their desire for knowledge into a desire for cock?
There were the thoughts that ran through my head before I was a teacher on the front lines. Before I actually understood what was actually going on in a classroom. Before I knew how your son or daughter actually spoke to a teacher — or even looked at them. Teaching 9th grade for one single year has allowed me the fortune to deduce a new hypothesis: It’s not entirely the teacher’s fault.
“Whoa, wait a second dude. How can a child be responsible for such an atrocity?”
When I was a kid, I knew that it wasn’t right to stick my cock in a teacher’s vagina. I mean, teacher’s are mostly at fault. They no doubt get it started. But there is more to it than that. Taking any responsibility off the children is simply idiotic.
I’m semi-young. Students treat younger teachers a little different than older ones. They are way more friendly towards us. Some girls have even sought my advice on one-too-many-a-personal-issue. Things I would never even imagine talking to a teacher about. Two girls last year even told me that they wish they had a father like me. One of their fathers was dead; the other was in jail.
Moreover, the thing that surprised me most last year was the amount of cleavage I was exposed to. It was simply unavoidable (and disgusting). It never ceased to amaze me how much cleavage some 14 year-old girls are blessed cursed with.
Remember my bit about babies raising babies? Thanks to that, these young girls know what they are packing and exactly how to use it. Or use them, whatever. Guys flock around girls with the most cleave and smarter girls know how to use that to their advantage. These guys will do anything for the girl with the most cleavage.
Teen Tits for Jailbirds (5/2010)
So how do you let your kid walk out the fucking door with their tits flopping all over the place. You have to know that your kid has the breasts of a supple porn star, right? Why do you buy them shirts that allow these things to say hello to the world?
“But I can’t watch my kid every minute of the day – I trust them to get themselves ready and make it to school on time. I have to get ready for work too, you know! Asshole!”
I’m not saying you can’t live your life and take care of your own stuff.
But don’t be surprised when the police show up to your door and inform you that your child just rode her science teacher in the back of a minivan in the parking lot of an abandoned K-Mart. Or that she blew another student in the bathroom and then let him cum all over her sweet treats afterwards.
I’ve worked at a school that had two sexual problems between teachers and students in one tumultuous year. Who were the teachers? Men – between 30 and 40 years of age. – unhappily married. What do you think they are going to do when a girl shows them some batted eyelashes and a peak at their tits (thanks to their scantly shirts)? Their misery allowed their retarded decisions to happen.
But your fatuous parenting styles gave it birth.
So this is a tale, my good readers; one that will surely stretch the threads of your imagination. But you must realize it to be true. I would never steer you wrong, especially when you’ve been so kind to me throughout the months. No matter how strange this story seems, you have to understand that it really happened. I was there and I witnessed it in its entirety. I was at a gas station sometime last year. There was a line and I was in it, bored, looking around at things. There was a man behind me, probably aged 35. I couldn’t see his legs – they were invisible – so I could only deduce that he was wearing camouflage pants.
I happened to notice that right under the counter above was a display for gift cards. This gas station had gift cards for every store/restaurant ever – it was a amazing. They had them for Blockbuster, AMC Theaters, Regal Theaters, Home Depot, Chili’s, Applebees, Olive Garden, Wendy’s, iTunes, Rhapsody… this list goes on an on. They had an amazing selection of gift cards for being just a simple gas station. I thought people only went to gas stations to get gas, beer, smokes, and beef jerky. Learn something new every day.
There was also a gift card for Barnes and Noble. Without even thinking, I commented outloud, “Barnes and Noble gift cards? Who comes to a gas station to get a gift card to a book store?” That funny man I described earlier, who was standing behind me, started to laugh a bizarre, mentally challenged-sounding laugh. Some of the other patrons laughed to. Perhaps they were laughing at him? I don’t know. But it’s about this time when the unthinkable happened. Something that took me by surprise. I should have known then, however, that living in Florida brings out the oddest treats.
This guy – I call him Cletis every time I tell this story – then said, “Man, I ain’t ever read no book in my entire life.” He said that proudly, as if he was the smartest man in the universe and he got that title without ever having to read. But I didn’t believe him.
We Don’t Need Education Dollars (3/2009)
I quickly retorted with, “So you’ve never read Green Eggs and Ham or The Cat in the Hat?” I thought the suggestion of Dr. Seuss classics would jog his memory because who hasn’t read these? “No man,” Cletis said. I shot out some more simple childhood titles but he still denied me. “How did you get through elementary school without have to read anything?” I asked.
“I didn’t get too far in school.”
That was it. He was done laughing. All he wanted now was to purchase his Natural Light brew and go home to his trailer or whatever to party. Poor Cletis. Part of me wanted to teach him to read right there in the gas station, the other part of me wanted to destroy his existence.
I’ll never forget that story. Was he lying? I don’t know. He was pretty convincing. But why would he brag about something like that? Finding out a 30 year-old man, who is clearly allowed to have his driver’s license, can’t/won’t read. I guess being able to read stop signs should be enough for me. Clearly it’s enough for him.
And yet our government keeps taking away money from education. If these results are yielding such fine products as Cletis, what will happen to the rest of us in the future? It’s only going to get worse. Who gives a fuck if we have plenty of people to man fast-food jobs. Who is going to be able to handle anything else? That movie Idiocracy may have presented the closest thing to an actual future I can figure.
Firstly, I would like to inform you that the general miserable nature of said post isn’t something that is going to last around here. Tomorrow I’ll be back with dinosaurs and turtles. Today is a bit different though. So sorry about that.
I write to you today with a great deal of dread and disappointment. Readers of mine may recall my recent struggles with preparing myself for admissions into graduate school. Or, should I say, the “graduate admissions process” rather. It’s a rocky road and these past many months have been just as rocky. I took the GRE that said schools beg you to take when you apply, and bombed it worse than Hiroshima.
But I applied for all of these graduate programs, in English, Film Studies (which is basically for film journalism), and actual Journalism. I thought these would be good stepping stones for my continued educational success, as I have 4 years of writing experience with Film Threat, some freelance work with the Orlando Weekly (and other publications), and the fact that I have enough festival experience to drown a space shuttle. All of this worthless, unfortunate, miserable, and basically pay-less experience resides on the lonely pages of my resume. It’s like a document of pointlessness.
People tell you your whole life that “working hard, pays off.” I want to find out who invented that slogan and slit their throat, kill their unborn babies, and stomp on their eyeballs. “Wait dude, why so bitter at your age?” My friend Frank co-runs a website dedicated to a new phenomenon called the ‘quarter life crisis’. It’s like a midlife crisis for we fine young adults, in our mid-20s, searching for a purpose. You can check it out here.
I’m mere inches away from turning 27. I know, that shit isn’t old at all. It’s still quite young actually, to some. But I am going balder than my 86 year-old grandfather, I have no set career path, debt up to my balls (like most people I guess), no real skills worth anything outside of poverty wages, and now, I’ve been denied admissions into more than half of the programs I’ve applied to so far, including the one I wanted to get into most. “Dude, you’re so young. Calm down. Something will come.” Shut the fuck up you.
I don’t give a fuck about age. Age isn’t paying the bills, is it? Age isn’t really bringing me anything, now is it? Is there a point for me to write another word in my life? Sure, I love it – especially the words here – but everything I write outside of here is basically worthless. No one gives a shit about film criticism anymore. And if they did, my words aren’t worthy of a paycheck.
“Doing what you’re passionate about is all that matters.” Fuck that philosophy too. Passion doesn’t write a rent check these days. At least in my world anyway. But this isn’t me being negative or anything like that. So don’t think I’m looking for pity. Instead, think of this as a way to describe the picture I accidentally drew today.
Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head (3/2008)
Today I start a very important journey. You see, being a fresh college graduate, there a lot more opportunities to make the same shitty salary I already am. So what better way to earn such a horrific amount of coin than by shaping the young minds of America? Yes, you heard me right. I am going to be a teacher in the public education system. High school English students will feel my wrath over and over.
Imagine me, so full of wondrous imagination and violent profanity, education the youth of today. I often read stories about high school kids fucking their teachers (the teachers are almost 90% female, oddly… where were these bitches when I was in school?). Not only will I not have to worry about high school girls coming on to me for a better grade, thanks to the gift’s of my being, I’ll never have to worry about the cops showing up at my door. This ride is going to be all about the education, not the fornication. Get your kids ready…