I'm so sick of you
I want to drill into your teenage head
And put some sense in there
For a change
Your three Fs and a D
Obviously you're trying to kill me
But luckily
For me
You know everything
About everything
And I
Am just
Chopped liver.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
A stitch in time saves nine
There's a new sherriff in town.
OK not really; it's still Sherriff Haagen Daz, but there's a new flavor.
A pint of 'five' (ice cream made with only five ingredients) brown sugar flavor, is just the job after one of those days like today when your car begins to smoke profusely as you drive to work, forcing you to pull over and jump out because you think it's about to burst into flames, then you call the tow truck which tows it to the shop who tells you it's no big deal then calls you back to say sorry actually you need a new radiator and do you really want us to fix it because your car is really old and it has 220,000 miles on it and wouldn't you rather look for a new vehicle and you're like well yes but no because I can't afford it so go ahead and fix it and they're like ok and then when you pick it up they show you all the knackered old parts they had to pull off it and they give you the bill and it's $800 and you're like totally fucked.
(Sometimes ice cream is not enough; you need see's candy too).
OK not really; it's still Sherriff Haagen Daz, but there's a new flavor.
A pint of 'five' (ice cream made with only five ingredients) brown sugar flavor, is just the job after one of those days like today when your car begins to smoke profusely as you drive to work, forcing you to pull over and jump out because you think it's about to burst into flames, then you call the tow truck which tows it to the shop who tells you it's no big deal then calls you back to say sorry actually you need a new radiator and do you really want us to fix it because your car is really old and it has 220,000 miles on it and wouldn't you rather look for a new vehicle and you're like well yes but no because I can't afford it so go ahead and fix it and they're like ok and then when you pick it up they show you all the knackered old parts they had to pull off it and they give you the bill and it's $800 and you're like totally fucked.
(Sometimes ice cream is not enough; you need see's candy too).
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Free willy
We have a kid in our classroom who's a ninja.
I'm not even kidding-he's stealthy, silent, and he can escape and steal things right in front of a staff of five undetected. Last week in the game room he pulled a family-sized bottle of mustard out of his crotch that he had stolen from our fridge in the classroom possibly hours before. ( And he was wearing skinny jeans. Don't ask, because I just don't know.) Another time one of the staff ordered a pizza and when it arrived he couldn't find his $15. Eventually L pulled $5 out of his armpit, and we discovered he had torn the $10 into tiny tiny pieces and thrown it in the trash-and we had all been sitting right there the whole time.
I did wonder if L in fact possesed a cloak of invisibility. I kept that theory to myself.
One morning he came to school with random pairs of boxer shorts secreted about his person. When he started pulling them out, T, who lives in the same group home as L, said " Hey that's my chonies!"
Yesterday, S accompanied L to the bathroom, but didn't watch L close enough (probably because S's girlfriend works in the classroom next to the bathrooms). When L came out, he had shredded his boxer shorts and was wearing them over his jeans like a grass skirt. ( We made L dance the hula when he came back to class).
Today we thought we saw him steal something-we saw the hand go into the crotch, the hiding place of choice. Staff members B and S stood over him and said "L! Take it out! Take it out right now!" L covered his face and shrieked like a girl. This is completely typical for him.
"L-take it out RIGHT NOW!" said B. She already had gloves on because trust me, once it's been down there you don't want to touch it.
Well all I'll say is this. L did eventually get 'it' out, B and S got a good look at it, and sadly he hadn't actually stolen anything.
I'm not even kidding-he's stealthy, silent, and he can escape and steal things right in front of a staff of five undetected. Last week in the game room he pulled a family-sized bottle of mustard out of his crotch that he had stolen from our fridge in the classroom possibly hours before. ( And he was wearing skinny jeans. Don't ask, because I just don't know.) Another time one of the staff ordered a pizza and when it arrived he couldn't find his $15. Eventually L pulled $5 out of his armpit, and we discovered he had torn the $10 into tiny tiny pieces and thrown it in the trash-and we had all been sitting right there the whole time.
I did wonder if L in fact possesed a cloak of invisibility. I kept that theory to myself.
One morning he came to school with random pairs of boxer shorts secreted about his person. When he started pulling them out, T, who lives in the same group home as L, said " Hey that's my chonies!"
Yesterday, S accompanied L to the bathroom, but didn't watch L close enough (probably because S's girlfriend works in the classroom next to the bathrooms). When L came out, he had shredded his boxer shorts and was wearing them over his jeans like a grass skirt. ( We made L dance the hula when he came back to class).
Today we thought we saw him steal something-we saw the hand go into the crotch, the hiding place of choice. Staff members B and S stood over him and said "L! Take it out! Take it out right now!" L covered his face and shrieked like a girl. This is completely typical for him.
"L-take it out RIGHT NOW!" said B. She already had gloves on because trust me, once it's been down there you don't want to touch it.
Well all I'll say is this. L did eventually get 'it' out, B and S got a good look at it, and sadly he hadn't actually stolen anything.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Happy Birthday Charles
What the hell am I doing in a country where 50% of the population doesn't believe in evolution? Is this a reflection on how skewed and unreliable statistics are, or is this really the land of the intellectually-impaired?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Those who can't, teach
The school where I work is Special.
A couple of weeks ago I was going back to class and my classroom teacher was walking towards me with one of our students, C. When i passed by them in the hallway C grabbed me by the throat and tried to punch me in the face. Actually his fist made contact with my face but it didn't really hurt ( he didn't have his full force behind it).
Today I spent two hours barricading the door of our classroom with my foot and my body, trying to keep a raging C outside in the hallway with another staff member, as other members of our classroom team kept the classroom going as if nothing was happening. C attacked three staff members today, the first one just minutes after getting off the big yellow bus this morning. Another one of our kids, T, had a melt down, threw his desk over and had to be proned on the floor by three staff. ( This is why our staff ratios are so high). After going to the break area he banged the wall, spat and swore like a drunk,mad sailor. "You fuckin fat ass bitch n*****" ad nauseum.
Earlier I helped a 26 year old teacher from another classroom prone an eight year old boy with blue eyes, sandy hair and the face of an angel who told us " I'm gonna fuck you up you fuckin bitches" while trying to head butt, kick, and spit at both of us in turn. When we got him down to the ground, he banged his head and started to cry, like the child that he really is. It made me sad.
Then I found out he told everyone he'd been proned by two old ladies-dude I'm the same age as LL Cool J or Demi Moore-and the other teacher is only 26!
(Actually I still feel kind of sad for him, truth be told).
I can't help thinking that a job like this should pay enough to live on, so that i'd only need the one job instead of the four, so that I wouldn't have to go from a day like that to doing massages at the spa when my foot is aching from being wedged against the classroom door resisting a 200lb 19 year old male with MR (mental retardation) who is trying to attack me.
A couple of weeks ago I was going back to class and my classroom teacher was walking towards me with one of our students, C. When i passed by them in the hallway C grabbed me by the throat and tried to punch me in the face. Actually his fist made contact with my face but it didn't really hurt ( he didn't have his full force behind it).
Today I spent two hours barricading the door of our classroom with my foot and my body, trying to keep a raging C outside in the hallway with another staff member, as other members of our classroom team kept the classroom going as if nothing was happening. C attacked three staff members today, the first one just minutes after getting off the big yellow bus this morning. Another one of our kids, T, had a melt down, threw his desk over and had to be proned on the floor by three staff. ( This is why our staff ratios are so high). After going to the break area he banged the wall, spat and swore like a drunk,mad sailor. "You fuckin fat ass bitch n*****" ad nauseum.
Earlier I helped a 26 year old teacher from another classroom prone an eight year old boy with blue eyes, sandy hair and the face of an angel who told us " I'm gonna fuck you up you fuckin bitches" while trying to head butt, kick, and spit at both of us in turn. When we got him down to the ground, he banged his head and started to cry, like the child that he really is. It made me sad.
Then I found out he told everyone he'd been proned by two old ladies-dude I'm the same age as LL Cool J or Demi Moore-and the other teacher is only 26!
(Actually I still feel kind of sad for him, truth be told).
I can't help thinking that a job like this should pay enough to live on, so that i'd only need the one job instead of the four, so that I wouldn't have to go from a day like that to doing massages at the spa when my foot is aching from being wedged against the classroom door resisting a 200lb 19 year old male with MR (mental retardation) who is trying to attack me.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Valentines Day Massacre
I worked at the spa on valetine's day, couples massage, chocolate dipped strawberries, sparkling apple cider, rose petals on the massage tables blah blah blah. Some women came in by themselves, their husbands/boyfriends having bought them a gift of spa treatments. We were pretty busy, overbooked actually, and our receptionist was not doing the greatest job keeping track of the clients. She approached a white-haired lady with strawberries and chocolate and said "Happy valentine's day, this is from your husband he called and ordered this especially for you because he wants your day to be really special". The lady looked extremely surprised, scared even. " How nice" she stammered, "My husband died two years ago".
Messages from beyond the grave are all part of the service ma'am.
Messages from beyond the grave are all part of the service ma'am.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Warm heart
Something that makes me happy (for a change) is the trip-hop station at pandora.com. Thanks Paula!
When I was teaching my arts and crafts class to The Old People today, Margo came up to me and took my hands "Thank you so much for the class dear" she said.
" You're welcome Margo- Margo your hands are so cold!" I exclaimed.
She is a diminutive and sweet old lady of 85. " Well you know what they say", she replied;
"Cold hands, cold feet, hot pussy!"
When I was teaching my arts and crafts class to The Old People today, Margo came up to me and took my hands "Thank you so much for the class dear" she said.
" You're welcome Margo- Margo your hands are so cold!" I exclaimed.
She is a diminutive and sweet old lady of 85. " Well you know what they say", she replied;
"Cold hands, cold feet, hot pussy!"
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