There are a lot of things in this crazy world I don’t understand. I don’t understand the military budget of the United States government versus the educational budget. I don’t understand how Superman became so popular, when you’re reading a comic/watching a film about investigative reporters who can’t figure out who this Superman is when it is a guy they have known the whole time (only he takes his glasses off). Continue reading “This is how I imagine MMA to have been invented…”
Author’s Note: The following stories are all true. I’ve changed the names not only to safe face for the youth of today, but to save my own, as my job could probably be terminated should an authoritative type actually find this.
I’ve recently touched on the subject of parenting, basing all of my opinions on today’s youth and how they act in the classroom. How kids of today couldn’t live without a cellphone vibrating in their pockets for over 46 seconds. It’s the parents of today that perhaps need the education in etiquette.
I was on my lunch break the other day when a group of female students came into my class. One of them had to grab some missing work from some days she was absent, the others were there because they had nothing else to do.
It was about then when a male student of mine, let’s call him Steve, came into the classroom. He chatted with the girls a bit then headed towards my desk. The kid gave me a fist pounce before leaning towards me and asking, “Do you see that girl right there?”He pointed to one of the girls who was my student.
“Susie? Yes, I had her last period.”
He says, “Ah, I fucked her the other day,” then let out a laugh.
This kid is 16 years-old and the girl he pointed to is only 14. I wasn’t stunned at the fact that kids these young ages are fucking – you’d be a dumbass if you think your kid isn’t doing the same. But I was stunned at the fact that he just randomly told his teacher about his exploits, without showing any sort of respect for my title, age, or authoritative power. I gave him a lecture about how I am a lot nicer than other teachers but that doesn’t give him a reason to share his exploits with me. He has not shared any sort of information since then.
Susie often comes to my classroom during lunch with a group of 4-5 other students. Some of these students aren’t even mine – perhaps they see my classroom as a shelter from the storm of idiocy outside wandering about or in the cafeteria throwing food and openly talking about blow-jobs and “titty-fucking” (these are just a few of the examples I’ve heard while walking around).
Yesterday in class, Steve came up to me and told me he thinks he got someone pregnant. He told me with a smile on his face, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. I thought for a second about what I could tell him. Should I tell him that getting somebody preggers is the worst STD around when you’re that age? Should I tell him about The Three Ps?
I tried as best as I could to explain the severity of this notion. It wasn’t funny, cool, or cheap, and there definitely wasn’t a quick escape out of this one. This would last for at least 19 solid years.
Then I found out he was talking about 14 year-old Susie.
You know that movie Juno that came out a few years ago? About that pregnant white, 16 year-old suburbanite girl? I wasn’t so much a fan of that movie. When I saw it, I was pretty positive that the girl in that movie was too smart for her own good. 16 year-old white girls from suburbia aren’t that smart – they don’t know shit about Herschell Gordon Lewis (a really obscure filmmaker from the 60s – one of the best) or who the fucking Stooges are. They don’t. Want to bet me?
The first day of school this year, I ask my students a series of questions, as part of a “introduction” exercise. One of the questions was, “Who is Herschell Gordon Lewis?” Most thought it was my real name. The rest left it blank. Where do I live and teach? In the middle of suburban fucking America. And that shit won Best Original Screenplay… but I digress.
I Be Pregnant – Lol! (4/2009)
So 14 year-old Susie is pregnant. I couldn’t wait for lunchtime to roll around so her and her band of merry girls and boys would come to my class to eat their triangle tater-tots amongst the company of intelligence. I didn’t say anything about what I had heard.
She had no problem telling, out of nowhere, about the rumor going around about how she is pregnant. “It’s not true,” she said, after explaining how he wore a condom. I did nothing but shake my head.
However, I was a bit curious how this incident happened in the first place. So I asked how she got herself in such a situation. She began, “Well, he texted me out of the blue one day…”
I was too into that sentence to pay attention to the rest of her story. It all started with a simple text – and I hear stories like this all day. Anytime something happens that shouldn’t have, the story begins, “I got this text…” Variations include but are not limited to, “I got this text saying he fucked my mom…”; “I got this text saying to meet in the bathroom in 5 minutes…”; “I got this text saying she/he was ready…”
But I digress.
There are a million other teachers who would do the obvious “report to guidance or administration” to share these tales of childhood woe. And I have done that on many occasions only to find my efforts fail when their parents could care less. Perhaps I am just now desensitized to it all.
Now I think of these stories as mere entertainment. Is that wrong? These stories are better than Crank 2. The dramatics of high school seem to be at an all time high. If I had any sort of motivation, I’d be inspired to make a documentary.
Kids have always had sex – that’s just what they do. They did it in my generation, your generation, your parents generation; and they will continue to do so until out days end. When I lost my virginity during those lonely days of age 16, I didn’t run to school the next day to report it to my teacher. Nor did I send out a mass text to all my friends that read, “I fuk’d dat gurl finally, bro. It wuz sweet yo! Lol.”
Perhaps this generation gap is one which can’t be filled.
Read more “Parents is Dumber” by clicking these colored words.
“I don’t love her, she kicked me in the face!” – Val Kilmer as Madmartigan in Ron Howard’s Willow (1988).
There is no excuse as to why my absence here (and pretty much every website I’ve written for) has been so long without any word of return. So I will come back the only way I know how… by doing my favorite thing.
The Next One Will Be Better… (1/2009)
Summing up the year in cinema for the six people in my life (both in real life and internet life) that still know I exist, and even care about what I have to say about cinema. Especially now that the Oscar nominations are out. This goes out to you… even though we are so far into January now that no one will care.
“Willow, this is war, not agriculture.” – Val Kilmer as Madmartigan in Ron Howard’s Willow (1988)
I find myself putting together this list during a voluntary viewing of Willow on DVD. Not a good movie by any stretch but what humorless bastard out there doesn’t get a kick out of hearing Val Kilmer calling Warwick Davis (a fellow little person) a ‘peck’? Makes me smile every time.
Without further ado, and blabbering, I bring you this list. This list consists of my personal favorites of the year and to those of you who know me best, you may find it somewhat surprising.
Top Ten Best Films of 2008 Continue reading “Top Ten Films of 2008”
It’s probably something that has been on the minds of more people than not. When would Ms. Lindsay Lohan show us her treats? This wasn’t a question that has been on my mind though. I don’t find her very appealing, especially lately, with all the DUI and coke business. There is something about her stature that never quite struck a chord with me.
Then I saw these pictures right here, where she attempted to be Marilyn Monroe. It finally became clear to me why she never stuck that chord – she has no shape. Look at her. Sure, her breasts are large enough, but look at the rest of her. She is a stick – no curves, no lady lumps; nothing. A big head, with big boobs, rested on a popsicle stick. Like the tower of a castle made in a kindergarten class out of blocks. I just don’t understand the appeal.
Lohan and the Shapes of Doom (2/2008)
Seriously, what the hell is your problem? This movie rules. I dare you to find me a movie where the body count of children is ALMOST as high as the deaths of adults. Everyone gets blown up to shit in this movie. Men, women, children, trees, jeeps, leaves – everyone and everything blows up real good here.
“But I don’t want to see Rambo, Sylvestor Stallone is too old.”
So what. So is Harrison Ford, yet your panties are probably wet for the new Indiana Jones movie. And George Lucas is attached to that shit, and that guy hasn’t made a good movie since before I figured out how to masturbate.
Plus, have you ever actually seen First Blood? This was the first of the Rambo films (and by far the best). Like, it’s seriously good. It was so good, it didn’t even need the word “Rambo” in the title. (Check out this sweet video tribute I made for it a few months ago: Click here!)
This new Rambo is more or less the same as First Blood II: Rambo and Rambo III (please don’t ask me to explain the odd title choices and how they don’t make any sense). But with that said, it’s much more serious, less cheesy, and way more violent. Rarely have you seen so many heads explode.
What’s this I hear about Hannah Montana making almost 30 million dollars last weekend? Either there are a lot of pedophiles out there or there is something seriously wrong with this nation. Wait, I guess those two are related. Anyway, put down your 3D teenage glasses and go see Rambo. Just shut up and go do it. You probably shelled out money for one of those wretched Star Wars prequels or Matrix sequels. So why not put your money towards a good movie now?
Caution: Falling Limbs (2/2008)
I am not a religious man. Nothing has happened in this life to lead me to believe there is some spiritual being out there, assisting our lives and what not. In fact, based on what I’ve experienced in life, there is nothing that’s happened that has even come close to making me think of something other than what is right here in front me.
And yesterday, with the passing of Heath Ledger, these feelings remain true. Ledger, a 28 year-old actor, was found dead in an apartment in New York City. He was never one of those annoying kids on the cover of every tabloid. He never got arrested for a DUI like so many other young celebrities. This kid was the shit.
Anytime you saw a movie with Heath Ledger in it, he stood out. If it was a bad movie (*cough A Knight’s Tale *cough), his greatness allowed you to forget its cheese. Even his brief role in Monster’s Ball, one of the most depressing movies ever, hit you in the gut like Alec Baldwin on coke.
And now he is gone, for no real reason. Yet Amy Whinehouse and Britney Spears live on. Lindsay Lohan will probably get another DUI, maybe even kill someone, while Ledger’s kid will grow up fatherless. We continue losing greats while being stuck with the leftovers of celebrity fame. Further proof that there simply is no justice in the world after all.
I raise a drink in Ledger’s honor, and even spill some for my homie Brad Renfro. You kids sleep well; maybe I’ll see you sooner or later.
The Last Joker (1/2008)