Just because I can...not because it's important

Witty title not available...

2006-09-13T21:51:00.000-04:00

A student asked me today, "Mr. Smith, do you think we'll ever have a deaf President?"

"Well," I replied, "we have a dumb one now, so I guess it's not inconceivable." I haven't gotten any phone calls or nasty emails yet, but I'm sure they're on their way.

So did you see that Facebook will soon drop its .edu email requirement? I could almost hear a collevtive whine from the users who still contend it's not just another Myspace. Awwww...too bad. The only bright side to all of this will be that maybe...just maybe...the battle between the pedos and the attention whores over control of the internet's Nobody Gives a Shit market will collapse on itself in a black hole of narcissistic suckitude. Of course, that's all probably too good to be true.

Not that everything about social networking is wrong, mind you. For instance, I broke up a fight in the bleachers at a pep rally the other day. As the po-po were dragging the two girls away, I saw a kid behind me snap his phone shut and claim the video he just shot was going straight to his Myspace page when he got home. I'm not sure if he actually did it, but I wouldn't mind being able to critique my choke-slam technique.

Finally, I'm finding it very difficult to keep discussion of politics out of this blog. I've been tempted lately, especially now that the mid-term election bullshit is in full swing, not to mention the 9/11 exploitation that's being shoved up my ass every time I turn around. What I'll probably do is just start another blog somewhere else and remain as anonymous as possible while still having a place to piss and moan without offending those of you who actually come here to get away from all of that nonsense. I wonder if anncoulterisacunt.blogspot.com is taken already?

Later.

P.S. Yeah, I said it. Sorry.

And then a bunch of other shit happened

2006-09-10T18:39:00.000-04:00

Did any of you catch the Supernanny marathon on tv this weekend? Don't worry, I'll fill you in. In each episode, a pair of clueless parents who've spoiled the living shit out of their children pretend like they have no idea why their homes have been overrun by what can only be described as drunken, crackhead demon babies. Oh and there's usually some dude sitting around on his ass eating all the food and leaving an underwear trail behind him. Then, just before I start cursing the family for letting some unemployed hobo live with them, I realize it's the dad. Awwww shit...somebody please help these people out before those heathens end up in my classroom in ten years.

Would it be wrong to have Steve Irwin Day at a Tampa Bay Devil Rays game?

Later.

Oh, for F's Sake: STFU Edition

2006-09-08T21:31:00.000-04:00

STFU Part 1: Survivor critics

Most of you have probably already heard about the latest season of Survivor where the teams are going to be separated by race. To everyone complaining about this, allow me to tell you to shut the fuck up. One particular opponent (a NYC councilman) pleaded with CBS to "reconsider." What a wonderful idea, Fucko...except for the fact that the entire show was filmed months ago. Calm down people. Here are some things you will NOT see this season:

1) The black team is forced to ride in the back of the boat on the way to the island

2) The Hispanic team will be placed in charge of all groundskeeping and food-gathering duties

3) The Asian team will row around in circles during a water challenge because none of them know how to drive

4) The white team will face turmoil of epic proportions after they become divided over the classic argument Sport/Not a Sport: NASCAR vs. Cheerleading

OK...#4 might actually happen. Either way, the world will not end because a TV show divided 16 people by race and made them compete against each other.

STFU Part 2: Kobe Bryant

After the US basketball team could only muster a 3rd place finish in the World Championships, Kobe Bryant, who was not asked to be on the team (presumably because he's a giant douchebag), said that what the squad was lacking was "chemistry." While this may or may not be true, the fact that it's coming from Kobe Bryant is like hearing Terrell Owens complain that the problem with today's athletes is that they're too selfish. Excuse me Mr. Bryant...STFU. Oh, and die in a fire while you're at it.

STFU Part 3: WTC movies

Enough already. I realize we're approaching the 5 year anniversary...whatever that means. I also realize that Hollywood ran out of ideas somewhere in the 1950s. Finally, I realize that politicians are jerking off all over themselves because the anniversary will fall just in time for that final push toward election day. It's not that I think the timing of these movies are insensitive to the families of the victims. If anything, they're insensitive to the entire nation because they suck ass as movies. STFU Hollywood...get a new idea for once.

Later.

And so it begins...

2006-09-07T17:54:00.000-04:00

I finally figured out why my job pisses me off so much. Let me rephrase that. I've finally figured out why half the people I work with can suck it. Notice I said "half the people?" While that's probably too generous of an estimate, I do work with some outstanding teachers. It's the other ones...damn they're idiots.

It took me four or five years to come to terms with the fact that my students arrive in my classroom each year completely ignorant of what is expected of them. I no longer begrudge them for not "getting it" the first time. It's called the "learning PROCESS" for a reason. I now look forward to each year as another opportunity to join my students on the journey from ignorance to empowerment. Depending on the student, sometimes that journey is shrouded in darkness with many twists, turns, and/or setbacks along the way. It's actually a very special thing to be a part of, and I'm blessed to experience this year after year.

But, I digress...let's talk about the fucking retards I work with. As I said before, it's understandable that teenagers might tend to give less than a shit about what they do at scool every day. I expect them to be imperfect when it comes to things like work ethic, personal responsibility, following rules, etc. When ADULTS can't seem to handle these things, however, my tolerance is at an all-time low.

I was sitting in a faculty meeting yesterday listening to various administrators go on and on about things like the importance of adhering to contractual obligations, having lesson plans available, challenging the students with relevant, rigorous material...and on...and on...and on. I'm sitting there thinking what the fuck is wrong with you people? Thanks a buttload for being complete idiots and making it necessary for me to sit around and listen to this bullshit because you can't pull your heads out of your asses. 'Preciate it. After that was over, we had to sit through another hour about how to develop more challenging material for our students. While I appreciate the opportunity to learn new things that I can apply to my own classroom, it struck me that the main reason we were being "trained" to do this wasn't because we don't know how to do it, but rather to try and force those who still refuse to do it.

All of this goes way deeper than yesterday's meeting, and I promise to tell you all about it in future entries. But let me end with the thought that was bouncing around in my head the whole time. I'll probably just end up sounding like and arrogant prick, but at least I'm honest, right?

from Good Will Hunting...

Do you know how easy this is for me? Do you have any fuckin' idea how easy this is? This is a fuckin' joke. And I'm sorry you can't do this. I really am because I wouldn't have to fuckin' sit here and watch you fumble around and fuck it up.

That's how I feel.

Every. Single. Day. Sigh...

Later.

Yikes!

2006-08-08T22:20:00.000-04:00

Holy shit...has it really been that long since I posted? Sorry about that folks, but sometimes RL just doesn't agree with good blogging.

Well, we're back in school, and yes I have tales aplenty. Where should I start?

We still have NINE VACANCIES to fill. That's right...NINE FUCKING VACANCIES! The sad part is that we only had four when pre-planning started, which means five other assholes already quit. As sucky as it is for the kids, it's probably for the best. If they quit before the students even come back, they probably wouldn't have been worth a shit anyway. Good riddance, I guess.

Apparently this is also "Pile Every Possible Task On Smitty Month." It's not that I mind the extra work, it's just been difficult to prioritize everything. As soon as I'm almost done with one thing, I remember two other that needed to be done last week. I know it's selfish, but when I start getting frustrated about it, I think to myself yeah, but this'll make me a shoe-in for TOTY this year. Is that wrong? It's weird because sometimes some of the people I work with make me feel like a rock star, yet at the same time I feel like all those guys on AFV getting hit in the junk by a kid with a wiffle ball bat.

One of the things I've been doing is making sure all of the new teachers receive as much assistance as possible. You know...so we don't end up with TEN FUCKING VACANCIES. For the math teachers (the Geometry and Algebra 2 ones), I've given them lesson plans for the entire year (Alg. 2 and Geometry), tests, quizzes, classroom management plans, warmup problems, and every other document I've created over the last few years that might make their lives a little easier.

Oh...and we did get a PWAP (Principal with a Penis) after all. I like him so far, but one of the first things he did was decide we needed fresh data on our students. This is actually a good idea, but it also involves creating school-wide assessments to be given on a regular basis. Guess who gets to create new school-wide math assessments every two weeks? Again, the idea is fantastic, but it's a real pain in the ass to create fair test items while at the same time making sure that every standard is only being adressed a certain number of times as well as developing the device to measure and sort the data once the tests have been given. Testing companies get paid millions of dollars each year to develop these instruments. I, however, am fortunate enough to be able to do it for free in my spare time.

Again, I'm not really complaining. It's going to be great for the students, which is what's most important after all. Besides, complaining would only attract commenters who'll pop off about teachers only working nine months out of the year, blah, blah, blah. I've been on too long of a hiatus to start telling people to fuck off already.

Meanwhile, I've also developed two sayings that I've been getting a lot of mileage out of. I'm pretty sure both of them make me sound like an asshole, but I get a kick out of them:

1) For when people are kissing my ass all over the place about trying to help out the new folks: "The water's just really shallow. I'm not actually walking on it." The true intent of this is because, although I appreciate compliments, I don't handle them very well. On the other hand, I probably just end up coming off as an arrogrant prick.

2) For when I've been given yet another task to complete for no apparent reason other than I must have a "No lube necessary" sign around my neck. "You know, one of these days, I'm going to show up for work as Clark Kent." Not only does this one shout ARROGANT PRICK again, but nobody (and I mean nobody) appreciates the humor in this. Sigh.

Anyway, it's good to be back, and I'm sure I'll have plenty more Tales From School in the weeks to come.

Later.

What do you want on your Tombstone?

2006-06-27T20:47:00.000-04:00

Here's a little insight into why I may be completely insane within the next five years:

I've spent an inordinate amount of time over the past few weeks obsessing over the fact that there's always 19 slices of pepperoni on every Tombstone pizza I buy. While I'm a big fan of consistency (I fear change), it's the number itself that bothers me. First of all, I like to arrange the pepperoni in a way that makes it easier to cut when the pizza's done cooking. I arrange them the exact same way every time so that there when I cut the pizza into six pieces there will be three pepperoni slices on each piece.

3 X 6 = 18

19 - 18 = 1

I don't really mind that one piece gets an extra pepperoni. Well...maybe I do, but that's not the real issue here. If they're going to put the same number of pepperoni slices on every single pizza they make, why the hell would they use a fucking prime number? We only have one child right now (who has yet to learn the joys of pizza), but what happens when we have two children. I know it's just one extra slice, but I also know I fought with my sister over every extra piece of anything. It had nothing to do with wanting the extra item but had everything to do with wanting MORE than she had. I don't care if it was french fries or Chicken Pox...if we both had some I wanted more of them. Period.

So again, the prime number thing. It's really pissing me off. Are they deliberately trying to fuck with people?

Tombstone Maker 1: How many pepperoni slices should we put on each pizza?

Tombstone Maker 2: I don't care, but whatever we decide it should be a prime number.

Tombstone Maker 1: Why's that?

Tombstone Maker 2: Because a prime number isn't divisible by any number besides one and itself.

Tombstone Maker 1: ...

Tombstone Maker 2: Think about it...no matter how the customers try to arrange the pepperoni, it'll be impossible for them to distribute the slices evenly to each piece of pizza. MWUAHAHAHAHAHA...BRILLIANT!!!

Jodi suggested I write a letter, but I'm not going to because I don't want to have to explain what a prime number is to Mr. Tombstone or whoever runs that company. Don't ask...it's a sensitive issue. Let's just say that 1 is NOT a prime number and leave it at that. OK?

Later.

Yeah...Yeah....

2006-05-16T10:16:00.000-04:00

I know it's been a while...deal with it. Seriously, though, the end of the year is a little hectic for me. We're wrapping things up at school, and I'm about to begin my 2-month vacation. Next year should be interesting. We're getting a new principal, although, we have no idea who it's going to be. At first we were told that the newly hired superintendent was appointing one from his former district.

When I found out the name, I Googled her and found out a couple of things that made me a little nervous. First of all, she's only been a principal for about four months. Another cause for concern is that her current school only has about 600 students in it, while we're at about 2500 this year. Today, however, I found out that she's not coming after all. Apparently, the $85,000 salary offer was too low. Who can blame her though; she makes $105,000 at her current position. Yeah...that seems like a lot to me too...especially since that district is reported to be over $13 million in debt.

I've mentioned this before about the leadership at our school, but we need more testes around here. Here's the breakdown:

Principal: Female
Vice-Principal: Female
Yellow House Dean: Female
Orange House Dean: Female
Blue House Dean: Female
Red/Platinum House Dean: Female
Green House Dean: Male
Guidance Counselors: 3 Female, 1 Male

Please, before you click the comment button and bitch about me being a pig and all that other bullshit...save it. I'm not advocating removing all of the females and replacing them with males. If that's how you interpret it, then you're a fucking retard. In fact, I'll say that my immediate superior (the Yelllow House dean) is hands-down one of the best administrators I've ever had the pleasure to work with.

So now that the search on once again for a new principal, I thought I would make a list of my requirements for my new boss:

1) A penis
2) Experience
3) "Foot in ass first, questions later" attitude

I can't really think of anything else.

Later.

Fun with Innuendo

2006-04-14T09:04:00.000-04:00

A regular occurrence at our faculty meetings is the awarding of foam puzzle pieces to recognize good things that some of us have done for the school since our last meeting. I got one for helping with the fight, for instance (The WWE Smackdown Award). At this meeting, he assistant principal was giving out a couple pieces to honor some science department members who have stepped up to help out after two other department members were forced to take sudden leaves of absence (heart attack and broken ankle). Anyway, here's how the situation was explained to us:

"As many of you know, we've had a situation where a couple members of the science department have gone down on us. And if you know anything about the science department, when they go down, they usually go down for a long time."

I looked over at the person sitting next to me and asked, "Is it just me, or is that about the filthiest thing you've ever heard in your entire life?" Apparently I wasn't the only one.

...and then the "church giggles" set in.

Later.

This, that & the Other...

2006-04-12T11:52:00.000-04:00

Fun with Office Woman

Office Woman: Is Joe Schmoe in class today?

Me: No, ma'am

Office Woman: OK, can you send him to the office please?

Me: Uhhh...'no ma'am' kind of implies that he's not here. (students giggling in the background)

Office Woman: Huh?

Me: (very slowly) Heeeeee's.....nooooooot......heeeeeereee

Note in my mailbox from principal: Please see me before you leave RE: intercom etiquette.

Fuck.

Fun with OCD

While reviewing for a test yesterday, I noticed one of my students trying to get the attention of the student in the front desk of the row next to her. When he finally looked back at her, she asked him to move his desk forward about a foot. At first I thought that she was having trouble seeing the board, but when the kid moved his desk, she asked the girl next to her to push the rest of the desks in the row forward.

Why? Because they were all crammed together, and the girl couldn't concentrate with the desks like that. The girl next to her tried to push the desks forward, but it obviously wasn't going the way Little Miss OCD had planned it. I could tell she was getting frustrated, so I asked her if she wanted to just get out of her seat and do it herself. She did. Once the desks were spaced appropriately apart, I asked her if she needed to go wash her hands ten times before I continued with the test review. "No," she replied, and I went back to explaining the review problems.

Five minutes later, she raised her hand and asked to go to the restroom. "You have to go wash your hands now, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes." Poor thing.

Fun with Accidental Leaking

Have you seen th ecommercial for the "in between periods" pads. I think they're from Stay-Free, but that part really doesn't matter. If you're suffering from incontinence, you'll probably be able to figure it out. Anyway, one of the parts of the commercial shows a woman sneezing and then giggling...as if to say, "Hee hee....I just peed myself a little!"

Fun with Irony

Jodi saw this commercial and thought it was equally ridiculous. The next day while walking through the living room, she sneezed and peed herself a little. Then she laughed. Apparently, peeing yourself after sneezing really is funny.

Later.

The jury's still out...

2006-04-05T23:12:00.000-04:00

...on NBC's new comedy Teachers.

It's only mildy amusing so far after two episodes. The good news is that the second episode wasn't about the main character trying to get laid. The bad news is that the episode was about another character on the show trying to get laid. Sigh.

So I'm walking through the office today, and I notice a dry erase board in the shape of an arrow sitting outside the office of one of the Girls' Athletic Director's office. She wasn't around at the time, so I took a marker and wrote "Free Subway coupons! Inquire within." on the board and pointed the arrow toward her door. While I was doing this, the bookeeper walked by and gave me a funny look. In the three years I've been at this school, I've yet to see this woman smile. She gave me a dirty look and raised her eyebrows at me like it was going to make me stop or something. I tried to explain to her why it was funny, but I could tell it wasn't sinking in. All I could think to say was, "You see, this is what people who have a sense of humor do to pass the time every once in a while." That she understood. Then she huffed away...presumably back beneath the bridge to wait for a bigger billy goat to come along.

After school, I stopped by the AD's office and asked her about the free Subway tickets. Apparently people had been coming by all day and "inquiring within." I copped to the prank, she called me an jackass, and we both had a laugh as we planned what to write on the sign tomorrow to mess with the lady two doors down.

Now that Easter is approaching, I'm also considering the "Free Easter Ham" gag on the new teachers. This is where I print a memo on school letterhead that directs them to stop by someone's office to pick up a free Easter ham in honor of their dedicated service to the school. It also tells them they need to hurry while supplies last. At the last school I was at, I even got the principal to sign the letter. That was classic. I've stopped sending them to the board office though, because one guy couldn't make it by the deadline and sent his wife to pick it up. She then proceeded to interrupt his wrestling practice with a tirade of profanities that became an instant teachers' lounge classic.

Jodi thinks this is cruel. I sort of agree with her. On the other hand...funny is funny. You see this is what people who have a sense of humor do to pass the time every once in a while.

Later.

More of this...more of that

2006-04-03T18:04:00.000-04:00

So I'm in the can at work today, and I notice the name of the scent of hand soap is "Juicy Melons." Ummm...OK. I don't ever remember seeing this one at the grocery store. Maybe it's next to the "Sweater Meat" scented towlettes. And no, I can't tell you what the soap smelled like either. Guys don't wash their hands after they pee.

We took Phaedra to the beach yesterday. She loved every minute of it. It was very educational for her too. She learned that sand doesn't taste very good. I was a little disappointed that it took two handfuls for her to learn this, though. She also got to see my "Daddy of the Year" award swept out to sea when I failed to grab her quickly enough and a wave knocked her over. Oops.

I bought a gig of RAM on Ebay for $186 the other day. Good news: City of Heroes looks and plays like a dream. Bad news: So does The Sims 2. Damn you Jodi :)

Speaking of technology...I think it's cool that I can take pictures, watch ESPN, download MP3s, and have the Law & Order theme song as a ringtone on my phone. I just wish they'd make one that actually lets me have an entire phone conversation without dropping the call. Can you hear me n...Hello? Hello? Fuck!

Later.

Why I drink alcohol:

2006-03-30T15:56:00.000-05:00

Contrary to what many of you may think after reading some of my posts, I really do love my job. There are some days, however, where I wonder how in the hell I can be so crazy as to keep coming back every day.

Today was definitely one of those days. We're going through the review stage of the accreditation process, so the visiting team was here to grill all of the committees about their reports. As always, I was one of the people chosen to sit in front of the firing squad. Before that happened, though, I had to break up a fight in my classroom. As that was happening, however, the substitute teacher for the room next to mine came in and told me she had just received a phone call that her mother-in-law had died. I broke up the fight, took the turds to the office, came back to my room, took the sub to the office, went to the now sub-less classroom and threatened the students with physical violence if anything happened while nobody was in the room, went back to the office to check on the sub, and finally went to my own classroom to teach a lesson on tangents and secants.

Three times during the class period, an office aide came to my room asking me whether or not I was going to write referrals on the fighters. Each time, I answered in the affirmative, so I don't know why hte hell I needed to be asked about it repeatedly. When I finally finished the lesson, finished going over last night's homework, finished checking last night's homework, and began writing the referrals, there was only two or three minutes left in class. That's when two members of the second visiting team (a math observation team) came to ask me a bajillion questions about my everyday routine.

I like the fact that I have what is known as a "model classroom" and am frequently complimented on the system I've developed. The only problem is that every time people come to our school to observe anything, they're always sent to my class. When new teachers come in who don't know what the fuck they're doing, they're sent to my class for a day or two to observe. When training is necessary on "model classrooms," guess who gets to provide the training? That's right. Again, it's definitely nice to have my ass kissed all the time, but that doesn't mean it's not a pain in that same ass when it happens every fucking week. It certainly didn't help today with everything else that was going on.

After I answered all of the MathFest 2006 questions, I had about fifteen minutes before I was needed in front of the SACS committee. Just enough time for a smoke, right? Fucking wrong.
One of my colleagues who had fallen behind in the book with her students needed me to go through the chapters with her to pick out the things she could skip in order to catch up with everyone else. For fuck's sake...can I just have one cigarette?

Finally the SACS grilling session was about over when I noticed the media specialist biting into a cheese/peanut butter sandwich cracker. The strange part was that she wasn't biting into like every other person on the planet does, but she held it vertically and bit off the corner. What the fuck is that all about? For some reason, this really shook me up. I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a minute or two for the rest of the day because I kept wondering why in the hell anybody in her right mind would do something like this.

Anyway, I'm home now, and thankfully we have beer left over from the party. Lots of it.

Later.

Why?

2006-03-29T00:12:00.000-05:00

I have to admit I was a little excited about the new sitcom "Teachers" that debuted on NBC tonight. And then I watched it. Why does every fucking show have to be about somebody trying to get laid?

There's some damn funny shit that goes on behind the scenes in a school. It pisses me off that the writers had to go the cheap route. Fuckers. We have a teacher at school who seems to only be interested in laying pipe to the new young female teachers. We all think he's a douchebag. I wouldn't mind that angle being one of many story lines, but I certainly hope it's not the focus of the show every week.

Later.

New math

2006-03-27T23:52:00.000-05:00

Jodi happened across the MySpace page of someone who used to work for her. There was a link on the page to her boyfriend's site. When Jodi clicked on the link, the lyrics "I've got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one..." came blaring out of the speakers.

I think he needs to check his math. He's definitely got 100 problems.

Later.

This 'n' That

2006-03-23T13:08:00.000-05:00

1) I saw a guy in one of those Christopher Reeve wheelchairs yesterday...you know the ones with the straw control thingy. I understand that blowing into the straw makes the chair go forward, but what if he wanted to back up? Does he suck in to do that? If so, I wouldn't be able to handle that. I can't even drink a McDonald's milkshake without blowing a vessel.

2) TNT has been running a promo all day that says "Catch Las Vegas tonight, brought to you by Vagisil." Which, to me, means "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...except for that feminine itching you developed while you were here. That's coming home with you."

3) Jodi and I were in a mom & pop chicken restaurant the other day. On our way out, we stopped to look at this old adding machine that was near the front counter. It was a really neat antique and looked like something the dude on Antiques Road Show would have creamed all over himself about. That is until Jodi accidentally spilled her soda all over it. Sorry about that.

4) And while we're on the subject of apologies...If you happened to be at Winn Dixie the other day and forgot your carton of Marlboro Lights in your cart out in the parking lot...I want you to know that they've been given a very good home. I can send you a pack if you want one NG.

Later.

"F" the FCAT: Vol. 3

2006-03-19T10:16:00.000-05:00

Jodi and I had out 3rd annual "F" the FCAT/St. Patrick's Day party Friday night. Unfortunately, Drunk Girl couldn't join us. Apparently the rehearsal dinner for her wedding the next day was too important. Bullshit. Almost everyone got lost on their way over (as usual), which is also bullshit since my directions made Magellan look like an amateur. Other highlights included Jodi and I being de-throned as Beer Pong champions and me walking in on someone in the can. Fortunately, when I apologized to her last night at the wedding, she had apparently been too drunk to remember. I guess that takes care of the awkwardness at work.

Our creepy neighbor came over to join us for an hour or so, too (No...not the crackhead). When he came over, he was two-fisting a couple bottles of beer and immediately handed one over to my Jodi. Nice gesture and all, but it was O'Douls. At least it sounds Irish, right? The next morning, he saw me cleaning up in the yard and came over to talk to me as always. This is why he's creepy, by the way. All I have to do is walk outside for two seconds and he's out in his driveway trying to start up a conversation. I swear he watches our house with binoculars or something. Anyway, he asks me what time the party ended. When I told him, he said, "Yeah, I saw everyone leaving." What the fuck, dude? First of all, if you saw them leaving, unless your only working time piece is a sundial, I'm pretty sure you knew what time it was. And second of all...stop watching our fucking house.

And now it's time to prepare for the second party of the weekend. Eight of Jodi's friends will be here tonight on their way down to Daytona for Spring Break. I've invited my recently divorced friend over for dinner. He doesn't really know any of them, but he likes his odds. I know all of them, and I really like his odds.

Later.

Sweet Sweetback's Badass Baseball Bat

2006-03-16T00:11:00.000-05:00

The good thing about threatening to kill a crackhead with a baseball bat is that they're very apologetic. I just had a little run-in with two of them. Yeah...just now...at fucking midnight on a Wednesday. My dog was barking his "grrr...strangers on the street" bark, so I took the ol' Loisville Slugger outside with me to investigate. Sure enough, the crackheads were out there at the end of my driveway.

When the guy saw me, he started walking in the opposite direction. I've already made it very clear to him that bones will be broken if he ever speaks to me again. How nice of him to have remembered. The stupid ho he was with, however, had yet to be properly introduced. She started mumbling something about my dog barking and wanting to talk to me. I informed her that she could either talk to my dog or the bat.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Yeah, I know you're sorry. I've known that about you since I moved here. Now get the fuck away from my property." Then as she started walking away, I tapped the bat on the fence and suggested she move a little faster. Heehee...watching crackheads run is funny. (Oh, you ain't catchin' no crackhead! -Jodi)

Later.

P.S. Say 'no' to crack, bitches.

Little o' this, little o' that

2006-03-15T08:34:00.000-05:00

1) I hope everyone enjoyed their steaks yesterday.

2) When I see all this media coverage about MySpace predators, I think back to when I was in elementary school. Not that I knew anything about computers in 1983 other than what I learned from watching War Games. But did anyone else do that thing where you attached every single bit of personal information you could think of to a helium balloon and let it loose? What was that all about? ATTENTION NAMBLA MEMBERS...HERE'S WHERE I LIVE...COME GET ME! On the other hand, I was never really in danger anyway since my balloon usually ended up getting stuck in a fucking tree before it even left school grounds.

3) When people start showing better taste in whom they choose to have relationships with...I will start giving a shit when things aren't working out for them.

4) If my search stats for this blog are any indication, there are people who will have some serious explaining to do should Google be forced to hand their data over to the feds. And whoever was looking for "dirty sheep anus blood" might actually be in need of a little break from the internet anyway.

5) Why do people think that it's OK to bring a little dog into a store? Even if the other customers say shit like "Awwww...how cute!" it's only because not everyone is comfortable saying "What the fuck are you doing, you stupid douchebag?" out loud. Jodi had one of these assholes in her store the other day. Not only did the bitch have a dog with her, she placed it on the counter at one point and attempted to put some of the miniature clothes onto it. (That sentence didn't really make sense...but you know what I mean) And of course she had plenty of attitude for Jodi when told she wasn't allowed to do so. Listen parents...please...I'm begging you...say 'no' to your child every once in a while. It's good for them. Really.

6) Fists of Fury Update: 12 students were kicked out and sent to an alternative school for the remainder of the school year. It's about fucking time the administration showed a little sack. Of course there's one family who can't accept this ruling and is trying to do everything they can to dispute it. Yeah, that's it. Don't worry about teaching your child responsibility for his actions or anything. Fucktards. The grandfather of this particular student happens to be a local preacher. He's been ranting and raving to anyone who will listen about how his grandson is being treated unfairly. He even showed up with a news crew the other day and tried to hold a press conference in front of the school. He was told to kindly go fuck himself and was escorted away by the police. The true dickhead moment for this guy was at the memorial service for a local basketball coach. Instead of lamenting the loss of an icon and father figure to thousands of student athletes over a 30+ year career, the preacher decided to use the platform to defend his grandson. What an asshole.

Later.

Something funny happened...

2006-03-14T15:12:00.000-05:00

...on the way to Steak and BJ day. When I checked my mailbox at school this morning, I noticed a flier inviting me to attend a special luncheon to show appreciation for those of us who attended the special Saturday sessions of FCAT preparations.

And what do you suppose was being served?

That's right...steak. I'm sure nobody else thought it was as funny as I did, though.

Today (3/14) is also known as Pi Day to nerdy mathematicians around the world...myself included. Again, I seemed to be the only one fascinated by this. One of my students even asked me, "How can a number have a birthday?" Not the smartest peanut in the turd, that one.

Later.

Holiday Alert!

2006-03-13T15:49:00.000-05:00

Did you know that tomorrow is a holiday? You didn't?

Shame on you!

Don't worry, you don't have to go out and buy anything for anyone...well technically you don't. Yes, for those of you who don't know, tomorrow (March 14th) is Steak and BJ Day. A month ago, every guy in America went through a whole lotta shit just to provide a warm, romantic, love-filled day for their partners on Valentine's Day. Tomorrow, the fruits of that labor will be collected.

The entire holiday is based on three main principles:

1) Men don't really have their own holiday. (Since there's also a Mother's Day, Father's Day doesn't count).

2) Men want meat...lots of it...and the best kind. That's where the steak comes in.

3) Men also like blowjobs...a lot.

It's just so pure and simple that it almost brings tears to my eyes. And ladies don't be afraid to make the experience directly proportional to what your man did for you on Valentine's Day. If the experience was earth-shattering...show him how much you care. If he "forgot" or gave you a broom to match the dustpan he got you for Christmas...give himSteak-Ums and don't swallow. Either way, everyone wins on Steak and BJ Day.

...and isn't that what the holiday season is all about?

Later.

Sometimes the blogs just write themselves...

2006-03-10T12:51:00.000-05:00

My vehemence for "forward this now or else" emails has been well-documented on this blog. Unfortunately some wanker from another school doesn't know this. Yesterday, he sent one to me and the other 16,000 teachers in the district through school email.

Above the forwarded material the sender posed the following question:

Is this kind of activity sanction[sic] on school computers?

And then the following command:

PRAY THIS EVEN IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE IT!! IT WILL ONLY TAKE A MINUTE!!!!

Dude, what's with the exclamation points? The caps already have my attention. The actual content of the email included a standard Christian message of salvation and redemption. While I probably should have deleted the message and moved on to something else, I chose to respond to his question of appropriateness. I did so in one sentence:

I guess you'll find out, won't you?

When I checked my email this morning, I got this response from him:

Subject: The come back[sic]! (again with the exclamation point)

Listen closely to the message I'm trying to get across. Read and comprehend the letter before you judge or even have something ignorant or negative to say... I don't care about that little phrase that was thrown in there. (Send 9 people this mesaage and you will recieve a miracle.) That doesn't even seem real to me. So don't take the message offensive. Your [sic] an adult, act like one please.

WTF? Where did he get all of that from? And you bet your ass I replied to this shit:

Here is what you wrote: "Is this kind of activity sanction[sic] on school computers?"

Here is what I wrote: "I guess you'll find out, won't you?"

You asked a question, and I answered it. I made no mention as to the content or message of the rest of your email. I was simply implying that if the network administrators decide that what you sent was not appropriate, they would inform you.

I don't have the first clue as to how you can dismiss me as "ignorant," "negative," and accuse me of not acting like an adult when all I did was provide an honest response to a question that you asked. That doesn't make any sense.

See how civil I am? I could have chosen to attack his poor grammar (in both emails). I could have complained to the network admin about it. I could have reamed him for judging someone he doesn't know for no reason whatsoever. But what's the point? It's so unsatifying to enter into a battle of wits with someone who is unarmed.

And what's with asking the question as to the appropriateness of a topic while simultaneously sending the same material to 16,000 people? You can't blow a load on someone as you're asking if it's OK. That's just wrong...and unmannerly I might add.

Later.

Did you know?

2006-03-09T17:57:00.000-05:00

Did you know that there's actually a Ms. Wheelchair America pageant?

Yeah. Isn't that something? Normally, I think pageants of all sorts are for attention whores and serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever. They could cease to exist and nobody but the wannabe contestants would even notice. However, I think this one isn't so bad. There's definitely some positive self-esteem that can be gained from competing in something like this.

What I really want to know is what they call the person who comes in 2nd place. I mean if self-esteem is truly the main goal, then I don't think Runner-Up is a good choice at all.

Later.

Poor Jodi...

2006-03-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

I've spent plenty of time on this blog bitching about the idiots who keep getting hired to work at my school. Jodi, however, may have me beat in the "Surrounded By Idiots" department. I feel really sorry for her. I understand that retail is more of a pit stop rather than a destination for many of her employees. What I don't understand is how people can take so little pride in themselves.

Lately, Jodi's favorite quote has been "I can deal with untrained. I can't fix stupid." And after hearing some of the stories she's told over the past 2+ years, I don't blame her. Most of it is just female drama. Yeah, yeah, that probably sounds chauvanistic, but everyone knows that women don't always get along in the workplace. Call me a pig if you want to...you know I'm right. The sad part is that most of these people have been out of high school for years, yet they still lead lives full of immature bullshit. God bless my wife. I would have killed myself by now.

What happened last night was so ridiculous I don't even know where to start. Because one of her employees is a complete fucktard (and basically a worthless piece of shit), we went to spy on him while he worked. Sadly, that's actually part of Jodi's job. Anyway, we were sitting on a bench across the street from the store, and it looked like it was pretty busy in there. That was until we realized that three of the customers were friends of his who were in there hanging out with the guy while he was supposed to be working.

Two of the people (a guy and a girl) kept making out with each other all over the store. The third turned out to be the guy's latest boyfriend. How did we find this out? Oh...because they were making out on the sales floor, too. Wonderful. We ended up hanging around until the store closed, at which point the employee came outside and smoked a cigarette with his buddies. Then he and the boy made out some more. Jodi tried calling him while he was outside, but the guy had some more groping to do first. When he finally went back in, Jodi called him again and asked why he didn't answer the phone. He lied and said he was taking out the trash. Fucker.

When the guy finally closed the store, we followed him in the car to make sure he actually took the deposit to the bank. Once that was taken care of, we went back to the store. Jodi went in and walked around to see if he'd done anything on his task list. Of course he hadn't. Fucker.

Now here's what pisses me off the most about the whole situation. When Jodi closes the store, she doesn't get home until after 10. That means we usually only end up spending about 2 hours with one another before going to bed. It sucks, but we gotta eat. So when assholes like this guy can't do their fucking jobs like a normal adult, Jodi has to stay even later to pick up the slack. That means I get to spend even less time with her. That's bullshit. I get the fact that he may not give too much of a shit about his job. Fine. I also get that some of the people who work retail are so fucking stupid that they literally can't do things like count the amount of cash in a drawer correctly...ever (That one still amazes me by the way). But once someone's fucktardedness begins to infringe upon the already small amount of time my wife and I get to spend together...now it's personal. And personally, I think you're a worthless douchebag.

Once again...God bless her. There's no way I could work in that environment. I deal with ignorant teenagers every day. They can't help they're ignorant...that's what school is for. Ignorant, lazy, drama queen adults should know better.

Later.

Fists of Fury: Part II

2006-03-07T20:35:00.000-05:00

It's interesting that I could post the entry about the fight yesterday, but when asked to fill out a statement for the police this morning, I couldn't think of anything to write. Here's exactly what I gave them:

"There was a big group of students fighting. I pulled several of them apart. I don't know any of the names except for the student I restrained until Officer Blankity-Blank took him away."

Gee...thanks Stevie Wonder. You've been so helpful.

Later.

P.S. And how the fuck did Don Knotts not make the "Look who keeled over this year" montage at the Oscars?

Careful what you wish for...

2006-03-06T16:29:00.000-05:00

I moved to a new classroom this year, and one of the noticeable differences is the lack of fistfights outside my door. My old room was right outside the cafeteria, a good spot for fisticuffs in case you didn't know. Not that I condone fighting in any way. In fact, it's pretty much the stupidest way to settle differences that anyone has every thought of. If you're a fighter...you're an idiot. Period.

That said, I still like to jump in and break them up when they occur. I've been punched, cut, kicked, etc., but it's still part of my job. The main reason I do it though (and this may sound weird) is because the kids respect it. I'm about as non-violent as you can possibly be, but if a kid is going to do exactly what I tell him do do when I tell him to do it because he's not quite sure if I'm going to kick is ass...so be it. I'll take the extra amount of classroom management anywhere I can get it.

Anyway, I was mentioning to a colleague last week how I hadn't gotten to do so all year. It's not that the number of fights has gone down, but they're happening somewhere away from my room. Today, however, I got my wish (if you want to call it that). It happened right at the end of my hallway just after lunch. And boy was it a doozy.

I heard a few kids in my room hollering fight, and before I could get up from my desk, one of my students bolted from the door and took off down the hall. I caught up with him halfway to the melee, and grabbed him by the jacket. A quick yank and he was headed back to my room. When I got to the fight, it was a little hard to see what was going on due to the crowd. I tossed a few looky-loos aside and jumped right in. From what I could tell, there were about six kids involved. By the time I figured out who was who, security and some other teachers had pulled them all way from each other. Then out of nowhere, the one combatant standing closest to me got knocked the fuck out by a kid who had broken free of his captor. The punch sent him sprawling into the bushes along with one of the female security guards. Another guard grabbed hold of the puncher, and I picked up the woman from out of the bushes.

Once the other kid had finally woken up, one of the football coaches dragged him to his feet and tried to escort him to the office. The kid wasn't having it, and that's when things started to get ugly. The fights themselves are no big deal. They happen, kids get suspended, and we move on. But in this case, the kid and several of his friends were now talking about taking it to another level. Yeah...you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, the football coach who had hold of the kid has had about 10 knee surgeries and wasn't doing so well keeping him locked down, so I stepped in took over. That's always a tough part because you never know if a kid's going to try and take off during the exchange. It's happened before, and it's not fun.

Anyway, there's about six of us surrounding the kid trying to keep him from making everything worse by not letting us take him to the office. Oh, and of course the fucking police officer assigned to the school was nowhere to be found. We finally reached him on the walkie, and he started to make his way toward us to take over. When the kid saw the officer coming, I could feel his body tense as though he was testing my grip. I know the little shit was thinking about doing something stupid. At the time I was behind the kid with a half-nelson on the left arm and his right arm twisted behind his back. When I felt the kid tense, I squeezed his right wrist and twisted his arm a little further in the wrong direction. "Probably not a good idea, son," I told him. He got the point and relaxed until the officer got over to us. I made sure the officer had a good grip on the kid before I let go, and stepped back to finally catch my breath.

We ended up holding our fifth period classes in our rooms until the end of the day instead of sending them to sixth period because we were worried that something else would happen. I managed to get off pretty easy in this one. My wrist is a little sore, and I ended up with some blood on my shirt. Other than that, it was a rather uneventful day in the ol' schoolyard.

Later.

Attention Military Recruiters:

2006-03-04T11:46:00.000-05:00

Please do not call and ask if I want to join your club. My wife doesn't have any interest either. And if I happen to hang up on you, it's not really necessary to call me back and chastise me for being rude. Oh, and sorry about that whole *69 thing where I called you back and chucked the phone in the drawer for an hour so you couldn't annoy anyone else with your bullshit at 10 AM on a Saturday.

I'm not trying to disrespect anyone who has made the personal choice to enlist. Good for you...and thank you. However, I have a counter-argument for every reason you're trying to tell me it's so great.

Recruiter: You'll get to travel and see the world!

Me: Even if I wanted to visit the Red Sea, why wouldn't I just get on a plane for 12 hours instead of a boat that takes 3 months to get there. I know I'm a teacher, but I don't get that many vacation days.

Recruiter: You'll get the honor of defending your country.

Me: That's great and all, but I think I have a pretty honorable profession right now. Besides, my job deals with helping people who actually live here.

Recruiter: You'll get your college paid for.

Me: Ermm....I already went to college. I'm never going back either.

Recruiter: You'll be helping to continue to make the U.S. the safest place in the world to live.

Me: Again, that sounds like an admirable job, but wouldn't I have to worry about being shot in the face or something? That doesn't sound very safe. Besides, I'm trying to make the U.S. a smarter place to live. We're not doing very well in that war either.

Recruiter: With the increase in pay over your current job, you'll be better able to take care of your family.

Me: How in the hell is being away from my family for months at a time better for anyone? "Sorry I missed your first step, your first birthday, your first day of school, all of your soccer games, your prom, and your graduation. There's a good chance I'll be able to get a few days off for your wedding though...maybe. Did you get the check I sent?"

Recruiter: Just about any job you can think of is available in the military.

Me: Yep...got a lot of choices as a civilian too...ones that don't involve having to worry about being shot in the face.

Recruiter: Many of the jobs available don't come with that risk.

Me: Like yours?

Ugh. Later.

Poor Grandma

2006-03-03T19:56:00.000-05:00

I stopped for gas on the way home from school today when a little old lady in in one of the biggest cars I've ever seen waved me over to her. I leaned toward the passenger window, and she began fumbling at the power window controls. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to figure out how to roll the window down, I walked over to the driver side.

More fumbling at the controls...

Still nothing (sigh). Finally, she just opened her car door to talk to me. Seems she was a bit lost and needed to know how to get onto I-95. Being the consummate gentleman that I always am (especially to old, silver-haired geezers like her), I told her that I, too, was heading toward I-95, and she was more than welcome to follow me.

Next, I asked her if she was headed north or south. Her reply? "I'm going to Savannah." Now, I had just spent the last 8 hours receiving equally stupid answers to every question I asked my students in class, so I felt like telling her to find her own damn way to I-95.

"All right," I told her. "That's north. I'm heading south. You'll be taking the exit to the right, and I'll be taking the one after that to the left."

"So you're going left, and I'm going right?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. "Yes ma'am."

So we turn onto the road that leads to I-95. The speed limit is 45. I decide to keep it around 35, but the old bag still can't keep up until I get down to about 25. As I approach the exit she needs to take, I literally stop my car, point animatedly toward the exit until I'm sure she sees me, and drive on toward my exit. Then when I'm turning onto my exit, I notice that she never took the exit and has kept on driving.

I felt kind of sorry for her, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I really felt sorry for her when I thought about what would happen if she never turned around. The road she was on leads straight into the Jacksonville International Airport. I've been there on several occasions, and I can still never figure out how to get out of there half the time. For all I know, she's still driving around the parking lot.

The important thing, though, is that I made it home just fine. Later.

Baby Talk

2006-03-01T18:51:00.000-05:00

I don't talk about it much on here because it's not really the purpose of this blog, but here are some recent pictures of Phaedra.

You want research?

2006-03-01T10:26:00.000-05:00

I'll give you fucking research.

retard: (v) To cause to move or proceed slowly; delay or impede.

Quote from the article (which you obviously didn't read):

"[The boy] didn't begin speaking until he was 5."

There are several more examples I could go over if you really feel the need to waste more of my time. For instance, he's on an IEP, and his mother said that this was the first time he's succeeded at anything because his autism had always held him back (impeded him, perhaps?).

Oh, and while I was "researching" at dictionary.com, I took the time to look up 'anonymus' [sic]. I couldn't find it.

Look people...I'm not asking any of you to agree with my opinions. I'm not asking any of you to kiss my ass and tell me how funny I am. Feel free to call me any name in the book if you'd like, but you should at least make accusations that are actually correct.

Here's how it works:

Anonymus[sic]: You're an asshole.

Me: *crickets*

Later.

2010? Or never again?

2006-02-27T22:17:00.000-05:00

Can we just stop going to the Winter Olympics already? I used to be proud of our athletes we sent to the Games. Now I'm embarrassed. And it's not like anyone gives a shit anymore. Don't believe me? Here's a question: How many medals did we win in Turin? That's what I thought. Now who was booted off of American Idol the last two weeks. You knew the answer to the second question didn't you?

Fucking commie bastards ;)

I could go through a list of things like Bode Miller sucking ass all over the place and that snowboarder chick who fell whilst celebrating before crossing the finish line and finished second...but nobody really cares anyway. And that's my point. Who gives a fuck? I don't. I do, however give a fuck that Americans look like a bunch of assholes to the rest of the world every four years. Why can't we just be assholes in our own country and stop parading our assholery around for the rest of the world. It's not like they don't already know.

Later.

Mixed emotions

2006-02-23T21:34:00.000-05:00

So I'm watching the news tonight, and I see a story about some autistic kid who's the manager of a high school basketball team in Rochester, New York. As a tribute for all of his hard work, the coach decided to let him suit up for the final game of the season. Then, the coach actually put the kid into the game with 4 minutes left. After missing his first two shots, the kid managed to pour in 20 points.

Yeah...

20 fucking points

I'm man enough to admit I got a little teary-eyed while watching this. I'm also man enough to admit that part of the emotion I felt surfaced as I recalled having only scored 13 points...in an entire season...on the fucking JV team during my sophomore year. I'm also wondering what it must have been like for the other team to have to go to school the next day after being lit up for 20 by a retarded kid.

Later.

Update!

2006-02-23T18:00:00.000-05:00

The ByeSpace Bottom8 is now fully functional...check the sidebar. Yes, I'm aware that Hitler is only #4. I was also not alive and residing in Eastern Europe in the 1940s...nor am I Jewish. Besides, my grandfather is a bigger dick than everyone on there put together, and he didn't even make the list.

The Bottom 8

2006-02-21T23:20:00.000-05:00

OK...the Bottom 8 is almost ready. The link goes to the entire list, but I'll be adding it to my main page soon. Enjoy.

Later.

ByeSpace

2006-02-17T10:08:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: If you're a MySpace attention whore, you should probably skip this entry. It's about to get a little ugly up in this bitch.

As someone who lives nearly a thousand miles from my hometown, I see a small value in MySpace when it comes to keeping in touch with people you don't get a chance to see or talk to very often. Beyond that, everything else about it is every reason all of you hated high school. If you're sitting there thinking "Dude, high school fucking rocked," go away...you're part of the problem.

Oh, and this conversation is always fun:

"You should get a MySpace."

"No"

"Why not?"

"Because it's stupid."

"No it's not."

Just fucking kill me now please. Oh, and Jodi tells me that "Do you MySpace?" has replaced "Can I have your number?" What the fuck is wrong with people? On second thought, maybe it's not that bad of an idea. People can fake their personalities on the phone...perhaps even through the first few dates. But when you fill out that "Have you ever..." survey and let everyone see what a filthy pig you really are...it's kind of hard to hide that.

Speaking of those surveys...holy hell. I've blocked friends (even my own mother for a short while) from my email account for sending me this shit. Why would I voluntarily seek out this same inane garbage? It's nobody's business how many women I've fucked. Is it really necessary for you to know my favorite color? Do you actually think I believe I'll have really bad luck for the next six months because I didn't fill out your fucking craplist within four hours of reading it? And don't give me any bullshit about those things being a way for people to discover "common interests" about others. That's a load of piss. It's called MySpace for a reason. Otherwise, it would be called OurSpace.

And who gives a fuck about a Top 8? Remember in 2nd grade when you made a list of all your friends in order of how bestest they were? You do? Great...now remember the beginning of the question when I mentioned being in 2nd grade?

So here's what I'm thinking. I might have to create my own version and call it "ByeSpace"...as in "Bye...I have no more use for you." Instead of a Top 8, I'll have a Bottom 8. Think of it as similar to the Festivus "Airing of Grievances." Yeah that's it...a list of the 8 people, places, or things that have pissed me off the recent past. Oooohhh...this might be fun.

More to come on ByeSpace. Later.

Suck it, Verizon

2006-02-16T21:41:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine recently decided to join the 21st century and get a cell phone. Since our $69.99 plan with Verizon mysteriously costs us about $100 a month, we invited him to join ours since the extra line would only cost an extra $10. I also figured since some of the phones are Buy-One-Get-One, that I might be able to score a new phone out of the deal depending on which one my friend decided to get.

We get to the store, and the douchebag salesman immediately nixes the free phone deal. While he sort of explained why I wasn't elegible for that deal, it still makes no sense whatsoever. Fuckers. When I go to Winn-Dixie and Doritos are buy-one-get-one-free, the cashier has never said, "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Smith, but you won't be eligible for a free bag of Doritos again until November 13th. If I want a new phone I should be able to fucking get a new phone. I guess it's all good though. If we had both gotten camera phones, the drunken nut sack picture wars probably would've gotten out of hand.

Then when we were getting everything set up on the new phone, my friend said he wanted to have his home phone number ported to the new cell phone. The guy looks us right in the face and says "We can't do that." What? Oh, I get it...the FCC must not have jurisdiction in Florida. What a bunch of bullshit. AT least the guy could have been honest and said, "Look, that's kind of a pain in the ass for me to do, and I really don't fucking feel like it right now." I would have respected that. I double checked the portablility of his home number after I got home, and sure enough, it's fucking portable. Bastards.

What's going to be interesting is seeing what our next bill is going to look like. While I was there, I filled out a form that gives me 15% off of my bill because I'm a teacher. The guy told me it'll end up being a $9 savings every month. So, with the $10 for the extra phone, my bill should theoretically only be $1 more every month, right? Note to self: stock up on AstroGlide to prepare for monkeys flying out of my butt.

Later.

The world is out of balloons...

2006-02-14T18:09:00.000-05:00

...my students have them all. What the fuck? Apparently the mylar balloon is the gift of choice for poor high school students. Not only that, but I think every guy in the school must have had one big group pow-wow and divvied up every fucking balloon in town to give to the girls at my school. I swear by the end of the day, I wanted to run around through the courtyard like a lunatic and pop every last one of them. Not because I dislike balloons...I just think that would be funny.

And of course every single student seemed to have this question for me today: So...like...what are you doing for your wife for Valentine's Day, Mr. Smith? I guess it's nice that they're interested and all, but there's really no professional way to say I'm going to do a bunch of nice things for her and hopefully get a blowjob out of it. So I just ended up saying shit like "Every day is Valentine's Day." Or, "I was gong to get her some balloons, but it looks like somebody already bought them all."

The "every day is Valentine's Day" line got two reactions...split solely along gender lines, of course. The girls all had the same response: "Awwwwwwww...that's so nice/sweet/adorable/blah blah blah." The guys didn't say shit. They just looked around at each other as if to say, "What a bunch of fucking bullshit. I can't wait 'til I'm married, so I can quit buying all these fucking balloons and shit."

The real truth is that we've decided not to do anything special for Valentine's Day. In most relationships this means the woman is really saying, "I'm going to get you a card that you BETTER pretend to cry about, and you're going to 'surprise' me by getting me some good shit anyway." In our relationship, however, it means "We're too fucking poor for gifts, so we'll get each other a card. That way the baby can eat next week."

The other thing about Valentine's Day is that Jodi is an anomaly. She doesn't eat chocolate...so there's an extra Whitman's Sampler out there if anyone wants it. She's not much of a jewelry freak either. I did get her a locket for Christmas (she'd wanted one for a while), but she works at Claire's for fuck's sake. She's got access to all the jewelry she wants. Yeah, it's shitty jewelry, but she's not really into accessorizing. She doesn't even have her ears pierced.

She does like flowers, though, and that's what she's getting. She especially likes flowers delivered to her at work. Phaedra and I will be leaving shortly after I finish writing this to do just that. She'll like that, and she'll probably think that's all she's getting. She'll be wrong though. I can NEVER stick to the "not doing anything this year" promise.

When she gets home, I'll have a bath drawn for her...the bathroom filled with candles. Once she's relaxing, I'll bring in her dinner (steak tonight), a glass of wine, her cigarettes, and whatever book she's currently reading. It's something I do fer her from time to time, and I know she appreciates it. But it really doesn't have much to do with today being Valentine's Day. She works very hard, and she deserves it. She's an awesome mommy, and she deserves it. She's an incredible wife, and she deserves it. She's my best friend, and she deserves it.

So that's what I'm going to do for her for Valentine's Day...a bunch of nice things and hopefully get a blowjob out of it.

Later.

Booty Time!

2006-02-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

So I'm sitting at my desk the other day helping one of my students with a proportion problem when I notice a kid get up from his seat and place a jewel case on the desk of another student. I get the attention of the kid who's now in possession of said jewel case, and tell him to bring it to me. At this point, I'm simply pissed at both of them for not doing what they're supposed to be doing. However, instead of bringing it to me, the kid gives it back to the other student and tells him to do it. This action as well as the look of horror on both of their faces gets me thinking that all of this is about to get a lot more interesting.

The kid gets to my desk and pauses before handing it over. "Mr. Smith," he mumbles, "before I give this to you, I just want to say that it's not mine."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah...and I also need to tell you that it's a 'flick'"

Wonderful. "Just give me the damned thing and sit down," I tell him. "I'll let the dean handle the rest of it." He places it on my desk (upside down, of course), and slinks back to his seat. I flip over the jewel case and see the words "Booty Talk 35" scribbled on the disk.

Now, I've confiscated cigarettes from kids and smoked them on the way home, but as much as I enjoy quality porn, I'm guessing I should probably play this one by the book. I grab a couple of referalls, and fill them out for both kids. Reason: Possession of ponrography on school property When I take the two kids out of the room to escort them to the office, the dean happens to be standing right outside my door. "Uh...here you go," I tell her, handing her the jewel case and the referrals. "Ten years of teaching, and this is a first for me. I don't even know what to do here."

She takes a look at the referrals, sees what's written on the disk and starts laughing. "These phone calls ought to be fun," she says.

Before she can say any more, both boys start singing like canaries. Apparently, the disk didn't belong to either of them...it belonged to another student in my class. What the fuck? I pop my head back into the classroom and call for the other student, who immediately realizes he's fucked. The dean and the three students head off to the office, and I go back into my classroom, which is now full of awkward adolescent giggling.

By the end of the day, word has gotten around, and I'm greeted with "What's up Mr. Booty Talk?" by one of my colleagues. Nice. Another teacher overhears this, and immediately asks what the hell that's supposed to mean. We tell her the story, but something isn't sitting right with her. "Yeah, but how did you know it's porn?" she asks. "It could have been music. Did you watch it or something?"

OK...first of all, this woman isn't fooling anyone. Without going into too much detail about her, I know damn well that she knows it's porn. As a math teacher, I could probably even calculate the probability that she's in it. Thinking that I'd be providing too much information by telling her the real reason I knew it was porn without watching it, I offer this explanation instead: "Look," I tell her, "I'm no expert on rap music by any means. I do know enough about it, however, to know that there's not enough of it out there good enough to fill volumes 1 through 34...let alone a 35th volume."

"Good point," she agrees.

"Yeah...THAT'S how you knew it was porn," says another colleague in the room. Fucker.

End result...the first two kids got one day of detention, and the kid who actually brought it to school got two days out of school. I also found out that his intention was to sell it. I don't know how much he was trying to get for it, but Adult DVD Explorer (NSFW) has it for a very reasonable $23.95.

Later.

Back to work...

2006-01-03T07:52:00.000-05:00

...Damn, it was hard to get up this morning.

Public Apology

2005-12-21T13:32:00.000-05:00

If you were recently at a Wal-Mart and had this in your cart...

...we're sorry we took it out of your cart and bought it for ourselves. We promise we looked all over the store for another one. We even waited for you to return to your cart so we could ask you where you found it. If it's any consolation, we're really enjoying it. Thanks!

Later.

Excuse me?

2005-12-05T13:12:00.000-05:00

I'm not one for the whole "Secret Santa" deal. It's not that I mind giving gifts. I just don't like getting crappy ones that I have to pretend to like. Look...I understand it's the thought that counts (which is completely bogus in many cases, btw). However, I'd sometimes rather people just didn't think of me at all. That being said, I still got roped into the ol' gift exchange scam this year. We were each given a questionnaire that basically said:

All right, fucktard, just write down what you want on this piece of paper, and your Secret Santa will have to put as little thought into your gifts as you were planning on putting into his/hers.

Well, one of the questions was something like, is there anything else you want/need that was not covered by any of the other questions on this form? Wow, could we drift any further away from the spirit of the holidays? Anyway, I've got very few wants and/or needs that don't include food, sleep, and things that only Jodi can provide me ;) Besides, I've never been comfortable with the whole Christmas list idea in the first place. It's like saying to somebody, "Hey, I appreciate you putting up with all of my shit for yet another year. I'll probably give you even more shit next year. Will you buy me a sweater?"

Oh yeah, I was talking about the Secret Santa thing, huh? OK, so the only thing I could think of to write down was a pair of tongs. I do almost all of the cooking at the house, and I've never owned a decent pair of tongs. Now, I KNOW that I spelled it T-O-N-G-S on the paper. I triple-checked it because I'm all too aware of how ignorant some of my colleagues are. Nevertheless, I was asked by somebody at lunch today if I had really asked for THONGS for Christmas. Wonderful...

Later.

We want out!

2005-12-02T15:21:00.000-05:00

Remember that Seinfeld episode where Kramer goes to the post office and says he wants out of the system? Well, Jodi and I wish we could do that. It really sucks that there's no alternative to the USPS. Yes, I realize there are options...P.O. boxes, etc....but I'm talking about FREE alternatives. Since we moved into the new place, we've had two types of mail carriers...sucky and suckier. Sometimes they "forget" to deliver our mail, sometimes it's "lost," and sometimes their ineptitude is completely beyond description.

Today, Jodi called the toll-free USPS number to complain. The lady took a message, and someone from our local post office called her back shortly thereafter. When Jodi complained about the above issue (most recently that the dumbass carrier hadn't been to our house in three days), the supervisor tried to say that the guy was new. Then he said the carrier was out sick. Whatever, asshole. When Jodi said that there was outgoing mail in the mailbox still waiting to be picked up, the guy offered to send someone out to pick it up if it ever happened again.

Jodi: Oh, so when I get home at 10:30 at night, you're going to come pick up my mail? Awesome...can I have your home number since you probably won't still be at work?

Mail dude: Silence...

Fuckers!

After she hung up with the guy, she noticed the mailman at the house across the street. She went outside and hollered over to the guy to ask if he'd been to our house yet. When he told her he had, Jodi noticed that the flag on the box was still up. She walked over to the box...nope...outgoing mail still sitting there all alone from Wednesday. There's more to that conversation, including a point where she thinks we may be getting even worse service soon based on some of the things she said. Wonderful...

Fuckers!

We want out! Is that even possible?

Later.

Randomness

2005-11-18T08:09:00.000-05:00

It's now officially impossible to go to the grocery store and not be asked for a charitable contribution of some sort. Girl Scout cookies, toy donations, Hurricane relief efforts, church groups...make it fucking stop already. I've now resorted to fake cell phone calls on my way out the door just so the beggars won't talk to me.

Speaking of hurricanes, did any of you watch the steaming pile of dooty Category 7: The End of the World? Yeah, I know it sucked, but I'm always in the mood to see major landmarks being destroyed. I'm not a terrorist or anything...I'm just saying. Anyway, my mother-in-law was in town recently and had this to say after seeing a preview for the movie. "It seems kind of insensitive with everything that's happened recently." I nodded solemnly in agreement. Then she said, "Of course the people who would be offended by it still don't have electricity, so it's not like they're gonna see it anyway." HEEEEE!

Attention Parents: Please teach your children that walking up to strange animals (even if they're behind a fence) and fucking with them is neither nice nor intelligent. Some owners may be inclined to "accidentally" leave the gate open next time. That'd be a shame.

Sports Round-Up: Terrell Owens is a douche bag. The NBA is still completely unwatchable. The Yankees can blow me (I know baseball season is over, but it's still worth mentioning). Hockey has black guys now.

I guess that's about everything. Later.

Monday Top Ten: Male Fashion Edition

2005-10-24T18:14:00.000-04:00

You know the phrase, Never judge a book by its cover? In some cases, I'll admit that it's entirely true. However, there are times when we can look at someone and know he's a complete knob. Don't believe me? Check out this week's top ten idiot male fashion trends. Here goes...

1) Dew rags: Listen asshole, we know you think you're a badass. While this may or may not be true, everyone else just thinks you're a douche bag.

2) Flipped up collars: It was gay in the 80s. It's still gay now. Put the collar back down, and tell Don Johnson he can suck it.

3) Wife-beaters: Unless you're perfoming some kind of manual labor there's no reason to wear these in public. Now stop standing around and cut my grass, dickhead.

4) Sports Jerseys: Unless you actually play for a professional team, you should have given these to Goodwill on your way home from high school graduation. No, Wednesday night softball leagues do not count as professional.

5) More Jerseys: If you do play a sport, are not an offensive tackle, and wear the number 69 on your jersey, everyone in the arena/stadium/bar can easily spot you as the biggest dick in the joint. It's not funny. No, your teammates don't think so either. They will use it against you to get poo-poo. I know...I've done it.

6) Hats: Hats are made to be worn two ways. Frontwards or backwards. Unless you have an inner ear disorder that keeps this from happening or are so old it's all you can do to get the damned thing up there...put your fucking hat on straight. It's not that difficult.

7) Pegged jeans: Are you fucking serious? See #1.

8) Headbands: Yeah, I know LeBron wears one. He also gets paid to wear it. I do appreciate your effort to keep your sweat out of my french fries, though.

9) Belts: Invented by Nanook of the North, circa 2,000,000 B.C. Purpose: To keep your fucking pants up. Even a caveman knew that nobody was interested in what kind of underwear he had on.

10) Costumes: No, not at Halloween parties. Our girlfriends/wives have been dragging us through that bullshit for eons. There's nothing we can do there. But this should only occur during a two or three week period around October 31...not at a movie theater...in May. I know you've been waiting you entire life for that last Star Wars movie. I know you're studying in your parents basement to become a full Jedi. I also know it wouldn't have killed you to leave your lightsaber in the car.

Later.

And the winner is...

2005-10-21T16:03:00.000-04:00

...not me. Dammit all to hell anyway. I was nominated by the Math Department as its candidate for the Teacher of the Year awadrd. Unfortunately, the award went to someone better and more deserving. Oh well. I also have this to say to all those people who say shit like, "It's an honor just to be nominated." They're all a bunch of fucking liars.

On a completely unrelated note, I heard a story today about some guy who was sentenced to 30 years in prison as part of a plea agreement. When the sentence came down from the judge, however, the dude asked to be given 33 years instead because that was Larry Bird's number. That got me thinking. If I ever end up going to prison, one of the things I will campaign for while running for cell block president will be a major change in the current prison uniform system. Instead of those tacky orange jumpsuits, prisoners would be outfitted in a sports jersey that represents the current lenght of the sentence. For a 33 year sentence...give the guy a Larry Bird jersey. After a year passes...give him a Magic Johnson (#32) jersey...and so on.

I think this would also make the sentencing phase much more fun and give the criminals something to look forward to.

Present Scenario: "The State of New York hereby sentences you to 7 years in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison."

My Scenario: "Looks like we're going to have to give you a Mickey Mantle for this one, bub."

Present Scenario: "You are hereby sentenced to six consecutive 99-year sentences..."

My Scenario: "For what you've done, you now owe us a half dozen Gretzky's in a row."

See what I mean? That's way cooler than the way things are now. I know what you're all thinking. What about people who are given sentences over 100 years? Ever watch a marathon? There are thousands of runners in those. It doesn't matter that Karamahoo Naboomdyae isn't a household name yet. It will be. And besides, long distance running deserves a little more street cred anyway.

Later.

NEW BLOG FEATURE: The Monday Top-Ten!

2005-10-17T19:46:00.000-04:00

First of all, let me say that I think Desperate Housewives is a steaming pile of monkey crap. Now that I've gotten that out in the open, I must admit that whoever came up with the title deserves a bit of credit. ABC could have gone the normal route and given it some vague name that gives no indication of what really happens on the show(The O.C.)...but they didn't. And I have to respect that. I also respect Heather Locklear for not being cast on the show...yet. Oh, and why do you think they chose to call the place Wisteria Lane? Is it because wisteria vines crawl all over everything like the actresses, or are they somehow making a joke about Terri Hatcher's ratty-ass hair? Anyway, here's a Top-Ten list of titles that apparently weren't good enough or got shot down by the FCC.

1) Neighborhood Ho-Bags
2) Melrose Place 2: A Few Years Older, But Just As Skanky
3) Opportunistic Pool-boys
4) Hollywood: Out of Ideas Since 1948
5) Adultery is Cool!
6) You Could Be Watching The Simple Life
7) Prime Time Soap Opera Sex (with moderately better acting)
8) Welcome to Wisteria Lane. Wanna Bend Me Over the Couch?
9) While Hubby's Away, The Pearl Necklaces Will Spray
10) Blame the Men!

Later.

Bastards

2005-10-05T15:46:00.000-04:00

I sat down with an insurance rep the other day to make some changes to my coverage now that there's three of us, and we made an interesting discovery. Last year during open enrollment, someone opened seven life insurance policies under my name that I've been paying $108 a check for over the past YEAR! Fuckers. Needless to say, I wasn't pleased. Jodi wasn't too thrilled about it either since one of the policies was for my supposed 27-year old wife Gladys. Anyway, the guy gave me a number to call to dispute the policies, and everything has been worked out. I'm no longer paying for these policies, and I'll be receiving a check for about $2,600 within 30 days. That's right...I'M RICH, BIATCH!

Upon further investigation into all of this bullshit, I uncovered some other interesting information:

1) According to these policies, I apparently make $3,000,000 a year.
2) There were NINE other policies that were attempted to be opened but were declined by the insurance company for lack of information.
3) One of the declined policies was for yet another "wife" named Joyce.
4) Had I found out about these policies on my own...Gladys and Joyce would have both suffered very unfortunate "accidents."
5) A sense of humor is a must when dealing with fucktards over the phone.

Later.

Sigh...

2005-09-28T15:13:00.000-04:00

...it's been four days now, and still no pussy. What's that? I'm talking about our cat Lennie. He hasn't been home since Saturday. What did you think I meant? Sickie.

Later.

EEEK!

2005-09-25T20:10:00.000-04:00

So this student calls me over to her desk the other day and points to a piece of paper that is sitting on top of her notebook.

"What is this?" she asks. I look at the paper, and it appears to be a chart for something she's doing in science class. My silence makes her realize we're not looking at the same thing, and she points to her paper again. "No...this!"

At this point I realize that "this" is a small bug crawling around on her paper. Normally, I'd make some smart-assed comment, smoosh the bug, and move on to another student. That was until she points out that she just picked it from the back of her neck. Without thinking I lean over to take a quick look-see at her neck. I say 'quick' becuase the word 'lice' popped into my brain halfway into my lean, and I got the hell back a few steps before any of them could jump onto me.

I told her I didn't know what it was, but I would look around on the internet to see if I could find a picture that resembled it. After a minute or so, I decided it couldn't be head or body lice because the thorax wasn't oblong. Then I clicked on the link for crab lice...oh...my...jeebus.

As soon as the class was over, I went and found a science teacher so that I could look at the little darling under a microscope before making a final decision. He wasn't very helpful by the way. "Oh...a crotch critter, huh?" he mused. This is the same guy who walks up to kids who are kissing in the hall and says shit like "Is this where the line starts?" Anyway, after looking back and forth from the microscope to the picture I had printed off the internet, I concluded that I was definitely looking at my very first crab (no...seriously). I put the fromunda bug in a petrie dish and took it to my administrator who nearly broke her leg running away from me when I told her what it was. "Too bad," I told her. "I'm not telling this girl she's got crabs. This one's all you."

Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you look at it), we have a specific procedure for this sort of thing. Who knew? I got the hell out of there and went to try and eat something without booting all over myself. Long story short, the girl wasn't in school the next day. So she's either got crabs, or I've scarred her for life.

Later.

Updates

2005-09-15T17:58:00.000-04:00

I had to get a sub for the last two periods of hte day yesterday. The district is so big that I don't really have a choice on who they place in my spot. I actually go online, report the absence, and the system fills the vacancy for me. Anyway, the lady's last name was Lacock, which is a pretty good joke all in itself. It's even more humorous that it's pronounced 'Lay-cock.' Since the requirements to be a substitute teacher are just above being 21 and currently alive, I always ask for feedback from my students, in case I want to request a particular sub the next time or keep one from ever coming near my classroom again.

The only useful feedback I got from the students was that she told them up front that she knew nothing about math, so they would have to bear with her. She then went on to pronounce the term 'hypotenuse' as 'hippopotamus.'

The other opinions they offered were not so useful. Apparently she looked like Cruella DeVille. I've actually seen this woman before, and have to admit that the students aren't completely wrong about this. I never got full confirmation that this happened, but supposedly, she had two of the students come up to the front of the room to assist her in the activity who both happened to be wearing black and whit clothes. From the back of the room, one of the wiseass students reportedly cracked, "Now she's got 103 dalmations." Damn...sometimes it's hard to write them up for shit that's genuinely funny.

Another student was complaining about how skinny the sub was. I furrowed my brow at the student and asked what the hell was the big deal about that. Her reply: "Seriously Mr. Smith, it was really hard to even look at her. I kept wanting to hold her down and shove some cake in her mouth." I normally don't care for female comedians, but this one just might make it someday.

On the homefront, Phaedra has discovered a new game called "Kick Daddy In The Junk." Never heard of it? Here's how it works: I pick her up, start feeding her, and she starts flipping around like that fish at the end of the Faith No More video. Since her motor skills are pretty weak at the moment, she usually misses with her first few attempts. But she's no quitter, and eventually it's WHAP...right in the ol' beanbag. I can't wait to teach her how to play hopscotch or some shit.

Later.

F a bunch of Open House

2005-08-30T17:32:00.000-04:00

Open House at my school was last night, and it gets worse every year. I'm OK with meeting the parents and all. In fact, I love collecting email addresses and work numbers for them just in case. Last year, I called a kid's mom at work and put her on speaker phone so she could rip his ass in front of all of his friends. Worked like a charm :)

What I don't like is that every year, the parents start looking less like my parents and more like people I could have graduated with. I'm not a big fan of this getting older shit.

Oh...and one of the parents told me I looked like one of the Backstreet Boys (or maybe it was 'N Sync). Should I laugh or cry at something like that? On one hand, that might be a compliment. On the other hand, I'm being compared to someone in a boy band...and what if she meant the goofy looking one?

The real kicker occured that afternoon during 5th period, though. One of my students picked up the engagement photo of Jodi and me that I have on my desk. "Hey, is this your daughter?" he asked. Fucker. That might have been funny if he hadn't been the third little shit to ask me that so far this year (you hush, Deb).

I guess I'll go take my Geritol and go to bed. Later.

Cheerleading is gay

2005-08-28T12:32:00.000-04:00

I had a student doing little fake cheerleading arm movements in my class the other day. While this sickens me on multiple levels, I calmly walked over to her and explained, "There are three things I don't tolerate in my class...soap operas, Teletubbies, and cheerleading."

"But I can't help it, Mr. Smith," she whined.

"I've got an idea," I proposed. "How about you just cheer on the inside then?"

She looked up at me and said, "Oh Mr. Smith, I'm ALWAYS cheering on the inside!"

Ugh. Later.

Nice going, Ass!

2005-08-16T23:44:00.000-04:00

So I'm finishing up some school work before bed when Jodi calls me into the baby's room, points at the changing table, and asks me, "What's wrong with this picture?"

I look at the table and see Phaedra lying there half dressed. Now I remember putting her to bed, so I'm pretty sure I didn't leave her there like that. I look at Jodi, and shake my head. I'm stumped.

"You forgot to put her diaper on!"

I look back at Phaedra, and sure enough, Daddy's a big dumb shit. Oops!

Later.

Some things I've learned...

2005-08-14T16:15:00.000-04:00

...as a first time parent:

1) Formula doesn't taste good...at all.

2) The Diaper Genie is the greatest invention of all time!

3) Cats like binkies too.

4) Naps rock!

5) Add 1 hour to "get ready to leave" time.

6) We'll still be late :(

Later.

This is why we need summer's off

2005-08-03T23:31:00.000-04:00

We wrapped up our third day of pre-planning today. The students don't show up until Monday, and it's already a clusterfuck of epic proportions. First of all, we've revamped the design of our school so that the 9th and 10th grades have been separated into four different 'houses.' While I'm completely behind this idea, the logistics of it all has been a bit wonky. First of all, everyone in the school had to change classrooms. That's not a big deal in an of itself, but this change coincides with several other major issues we're dealing with at the school.

The HVAC system in the entire building is being replaced due to faulty installation and a subsequent lawsuit. While logic would dictate that the summer would have been an excellent time to do this, we've returned to find that only about 10% of it is completed at this time. Wonderful. Here's what this means for me at the moment. My classroom has been moved from one hallway to another, but I'll actually be in yet another room until September 20th. The teacher who had that room last year still hasn't removed all of his shit and taken it to his new room. Why? Oh, it gets better. Due to increased enrollment, we've added about 15 portables to be used as classrooms. The only problem is that less than half of them have been cleared for use by the inspector. Some of them don't even have power yet. So the guy whose shit is in my room can't remove it because his portable isn't ready yet.

Yet another 25% or so of the rooms have been quarrantined by OHSA due to mold.

We're using new Algebra 2 books this year. Unfortunately, they haven't arrived as of yet, so I can't prepare any lessons until they do.

They lady who makes the copies (because we can't be trusted not to break the machines) will not be in the rest of the week.

My laptop was being refurbished (supposedly) over the summer, so I placed all of my files on the network share folder. They've all been erased of course. Fuckers.

They changed the format of the annual math workshop this year so that only those who haven't been trained to use our current line of textbooks needed to attend. Of course they waited until all of us drove all the way over there to tell us we could leave and return to our school. Thanks.

We still have 5 vacant teaching positions.

Did I mention school starts on Monday?

Later.

Hot Coffee, anyone?

2005-08-01T16:30:00.000-04:00

As some of you may already know, the video game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas has had its rating changed from Mature to Adults Only due to some hidden sexually explicit scenes that can be unlocked by a user-mod called "Hot Coffee."

I don't really care about this debate very much, and that's not what this post is about. What I think is funny, however, is that all this hub-bub has been made about hidden content, while one of the filthiest parts of the game is evident from the very start.

One of the vehicles available in the game is a dirtbike called the "Sanchez."

Waiting...1...2...3...

Dirty Sanchez? Come on, Hillary. How could you have missed that one?

Later.

I'd like to teach Billy Davis to spin in his grave

2005-07-29T11:02:00.000-04:00

OK...maybe the title was a bit obscure, but that new Coke commercial is really pissing me off. No, not the roller skating one with Paul Oakenfold's "Starry Eyed Surprise." The one I'm talking about is the remake of Billy Davis' "I'd like to teach the world to sing." In this one, the lyrics have been changed to "I'd like to teach the world to chill." (Video here) Good one, Coke. Where do I start?

1) Do people still "chill" anyway? I know I've got a few more gray hairs than I did last year, but I still hear the young'uns talk at school. I haven't heard the "What's up?" "Chillin'" exchange in quite some time. I have heard "Chillin' like a villain" a few times, but those people still live in their parents' basements.

2) The rooftop thing is so not original. Poor U2. First Coldplay steals their vibe (I Keed), now they have to see some douchebags rip off their rooftop concert gig every ten minutes. I get the whole shout it from the rooftops thing, but wouldn't they reach more people by playing in the park or something?

3) You'd like to buy the world a Coke, huh? Dude, do you have any idea how many people there are in the world? Where the fuck are you planning on getting that kind of cash?

4) I went to college with guys like that. He's totally in it for the pooty. Here's what the song should have said:

I'd like to nail that Asian chick
Put her legs behind her head
And then I'll fingerbang her friend
Once she's gone to bed

Now that's the Real Thing.

Later.

Sev-peat?

2005-07-26T02:42:00.000-04:00

So Lance Armstrong won his 7th consecutive Tour de France. I'll admit that I know almost nothing about cycling except what Greg LeMond and Lance Armstrong have done. I'll also admit that I don't care that much about it beyond the fact that I've got a ton of respect for what Armstrong has done as an athlete. In fact, it kind of makes some of my life's accomplishments look like a booger in comparison.

I've probably never worked 7 days in a row.

I can't remember the last time I've showered 7 days in a row.

I haven't gone 7 years without forgetting my parents' anniversary at least once.

So here's to you Lance Armstrong. Enjoy the second part of your recovery. Now you can finally take your ball and go home.

Later.

I know she's a girl, but...

2005-07-21T12:59:00.000-04:00

Hehe...Later.

Killing me softly...

2005-07-17T02:45:00.000-04:00

Remember this science experiment?

OK, now imagine having to work inside of that bag. Apparently that's what my principal expects me to do. I dropped by school the other day to help move some materials from the math workroom and decided to pop into my new classroom.

Look at that picture again...

That's what's growing all over the carpet in my room. Oh, and on the walls and desks too. Isn't that lovely? I'm all for cross-curricular studies and everything, but I think there's a more suitable method of combining math and science without growing colonies of spores on my lungs. I asked the principal what she planned to do about it, and she said the carpets are being cleaned before school starts. In fact, a crew was working on some rooms in another hallway if I wanted to check it out.

What an operation this was. The "crew" consisted of one guy blasting the carpets with a power washer. Um...OK...and where is all that water going? Down the magic drains beneath the carpet? Fuckers. My only hope is that one of the mold formations ends up looking like Jesus or something, so I can cut out the swatch of carpet and sell it on E-Bay.

Later.

Mmmm...sushi...

2005-07-17T01:04:00.000-04:00

Jodi bought me a sushi kit a couple of years ago, and I finally got around to making some for her this afternoon. It actually turned out quite well for my first time.

In other news, the baby adventures are breaking new ground every day:

Jodi: Awww...dammit!

Me: What, honey?

Jodi: My boobs are leaking!

I'm also still not quite used to sticking my finger inside of a diaper in search of poo. It reminds me of the first time I saw Marilyn Manson and wondered what the hell my children were going to come up with that will shock the hell out of me. Now I wonder what will be the grossest thing I'll have to endure as a parent and how long it will take to even register as disgusting after being pooed and barfed on every day. Cest la vie...

Later.

Parenting 101

2005-07-14T09:09:00.000-04:00

Talk about on the job training...It's amazing how little I know about taking care of a miniature human. I live in constant fear that any small mistake I make will cause irreparable ruin to our child. Father knows best, my ass!

Fortunately, we have The Bible to help us. No, not that Bible. You should see us with this book. It's quite comical at times. For instance, last night we decided to wash the baby. Seems simple enough, right? Au contraire. There's eleventy billion steps involved as well as a suggested order for doing them. So here we are in the bathroom; I've got the book laid out on the toilet as I read off the steps to Jodi like a damned recipe for a Christmas goose. Of course, the little miracle is crying the entire time, so I keep rereading the steps to see which one I missed that turns off that option. I guess we did OK; I mean, we didn't drop her in the sink or anything.

Today's task will be cutting her little fingernails. Jodi and I read that page a dozen times apiece yesterday, but I'm sure we'll have the book by our side just in case.

Later.

Because you gotta have goals

2005-07-12T08:38:00.000-04:00

I've been hanging up on telemarketers for years without saying a word other than 'hello.' Unfortunately, they've gotten more aggressive lately. Hanging up doesn't work anymore because the bastards just call right back. Case in point:

Ring...

Me: Hello?

Loser with shitty job: ...after long autodialer pause...Can I speak to Jodi?

Me: Click

Ring...

Me: Hello?

Loser with shitty job: Hey, I don't know what happened there, but...

Me: I fucking hung up on you dumbass

Click

Ring

Me: Hello?

Loser with shitty job: Why are you hanging up on me?

Me: Dude, are you fucking retarded? What's your problem?

Loser with shitty job: I just...

Me: You just thought you'd be a dick and keep calling someone who's not interested? Oh OK, I get it now. Thanks. Bye.

Click

Telemarketers blow goats. Period. I don't care if that's what you do for a living. Your jobs sucks, and I'll never feel bad about being a complete asshole to you. Therefore, I've decided to set a few goals for myself before my summer vacation comes to an end.

1) I'd like to make a telemarketer cry. Yeah, yeah, they're people too, right? Pardon me while I pour myself another cup of Whogivesafuck.

2) I'd like to make a telemarketer use the f-word. This is probably a more realistic goal since I'm certain I don't have the patience to push all the buttons required in Goal #1. That'll take too long, and I've got poopy diapers to change. I also don't care which variation of 'fuck' I get out of him/her. It could be "Fuck you!" Or "You're a fucking asshole!" Or even "What the fuck is the matter with you?" Any of those will suffice.

Game on, my friends...game on.

Later.

Projectile vomiting and other funky adventures

2005-07-11T14:28:00.000-04:00

So a rudimentary routine has been established...completely of Phaedra's choosing, of course :) Apparently the first night was an abberation:

Asleep at 11...feeding at 3 AM...feeding at 7 AM...start new day. I kind of liked that one to be honest with you.

The new routine goes something like this:

Asleep at 11...crying at 12:30...feedings mixed in there somewhere...repeat as necessary until about 6:00 AM

Thank God for fake jobs like teaching where I don't have to go back to work for a few weeks. As for the projectile vomiting, I'm trying not to be one of those dads who bores the hell out of everyone with the exploits of his children, but does anyone know the record for furthest formula launch in the 0-1 week old category? I think we may have had one for the books last night. I may be getting ahead of myself here, but I think the kid's got some potential.

On antother note, the experience so far has been the most difficult yet most exciting and rewarding of antyhing else I've ever done. I've been preparing my whole life for this moment, and I couldn't imagine a better partner with which to share it. Jodi is absolutely amazing. I love her more than ever, and I'm going to be a better father because of her.

Now for those of you who read this blog for my charming wit, I have this question for you. Is it normal for neutered dogs to still get boners? Not that there's anything wrong with that...I'm just saying...

Later.

Wow!

2005-07-08T17:44:00.000-04:00

All of you were right. There really are no words to describe what it's like to watch your child being born. I want to thank those of you who offered your warm thoughts and prayers throughout the pregnancy. And now...the moment you've all been waiting for:

Later :)

Remember when...?

2005-07-06T00:09:00.000-04:00

Remember when you were a kid, and it was damn near impossible to fall asleep on Christmas Eve? Well, multiply that by eleventy billion, and that's how I feel right now. Today was Jodi's due date, and her doctor has scheduled inducement for tomorrow morning at 6 AM. That's right everyone...our little miracle will be arriving tomorrow.

I'm scared, nervous, excited, frantic, and completely blown away by how awesome this whole experience has been. I'll have pictures as soon as I can.

Later.

Hurry up already!

2005-06-26T00:22:00.000-04:00

Every day I wake up and think...This could be the day! Little Phaedra has yet to arrive though. We're definitely ready for her. I know Jodi's ready...that's for sure. For those of you who've stuck around to pop in once in a while, I apologize for not having much to say the last month. It's been pretty crazy as you can imagine. Jodi's mom is here from Ohio, and that's been a huge relief for us. Jodi and I are both admittedly ignorant about what the hell to do once the baby arrives. Most people have told us things like..."Oh don't worry. You'll just know." Yeah right. I tried that on my Abstract Algebra final in college and got a D-. What I do know is that I'm glad that someone is here who knows what the hell she's doing.

Later.

The light at the end of the tunnel...

2005-05-22T22:59:00.000-04:00

Almost there...two more days of post-planning and school is out for the summer. Then begins the monthlong wait for our little miracle. I can't wait for our lives to change forever. My best friend from when I grew up is a professional painter and is flying in for the first weekend in June to help us do the nursery. How special is that? We also met a professional photographer at a graduation party the other day who wants to take some pregnancy photos for us. One of the ones he wants to do is a side view of Jodi's belly. Then, after Phaedra is born, we'll take her in to be photographed in a fetal position, and that picture will be superimposed "into" Jodi's belly. We're really excited about that one. Apparently the guy's studio partner did some similar shots, and he wants to do some as well to use in his advertising portfolio. So that's cool.

In other news, I laughed my balls off the other day when I noticed the license plate of the clueless dude who is finishing his first year of teaching while trying to remove his head from his ass at the same time. For you who are well versed in 1337-speak, you may find this funny as well. The license plate:

N008E

Hehe...noob! You can say that again. Since we moved, I have a longer drive to and from work, but that one kept me giggling like a fool almost the whole way home.

Later.

Fun with obesity...

2005-05-09T15:37:00.000-04:00

Last week, a home run was hit at Tropicana Field in Tampa that lodged in a crack in the wall. The highlight on SportsCenter showed a bunch of idiots tossing shoes and hats(?) at the ball to try to knock it from its perch. Kind of a "had to be there" moment, but mildly amusing nonetheless.

Around the same time last week (possibly the same day), a similar event occurred that combined hilarity, embarrassment, and "NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED" all in one package. Some of you are not going to believe this, and I can't say that I blame you. I will admit that I was not actually there to see this happen, but I've since spoken to several people who were there and can assure you that the story I'm about to tell is real:

My brother-in-law coaches my nephew's baseball team. As per usual, many of the parents of the kids on the team attend practice. On this particular day, one of the parents, who happens to be a rather large individual (see post title), was standing in foul territory with his back to home plate. One of the young'uns was up to bat and hit a ball bouncing in the direction of said big dude. The ball took a couple of hops, hit the man in the backside, and became wedged in the crack of his ass. As a field full of 11 and 12 year olds doubled over in laughter, the man nonchalantly reached around, dislodged the ball, and tossed back to the field as though it were something that happens all the time.

I can see it now:

Big Dude: Honey have you seen the remote control?

Big Dude's Wife: No...why don't you check your ass crack. Maybe it's up there with that cat we haven't seen in three weeks.

I'll never live to see the day when I don't regret not being there to see this with my own eyes. What's even worse is that it didn't happen to one of my softball parents. Oh well.

Later.

My mother taught me...

2005-05-08T10:24:00.000-04:00

...how to cook

...how to do laundry

...to look for bargains at garage sales

...that reading is fun

...that family is important

...how to treat a lady with respect

...that love endures forever

Thank you Mom. I love you for all of these things and more. You helped make me the man I am today, and I'm glad you're still not embarrassed to admit that. :)

-Later.

Finally!

2005-04-25T19:57:00.000-04:00

Even though we moved into the new place several weeks ago, we hadn't officially gotten rid of the old shithole. All of that ended today, and I didn't even have to violate the sanctity of my marriage to do it. OK, let me explain that last part there...

The owner of our house refused to let us out of our lease, so we still had three months of rent left to pay. The only arrangement I was able to work out with the company that manages the property for the owner was to pay two of the three months and forfeit the security deposit to cover the third month. Financially, that still sucked ass for us, but at least we could sort of get out of that last month. The only problem with that is that since we have eleventy billion animals, there were some things that needed done at the old house before we could even think of getting credit for our entire security deposit. Over the past three weeks, I've busted my ass getting things ready for the final inspection. Money has been tight and we really, really, really needed to keep any deposit deductions to a minimum.

Ever since we moved into that place two years ago, Jodi's been under the impression that the rental agent has some sort of crush on me...whatever. Because of this, Jodi gave me explicit instructions to secure 100% of our deposit "by any means necessary." Yes, that is a direct quote. When I laughed at this, she looked me dead in the eye and said, "I'm not joking. If sexual favors are the only way to do it...do it."

I'm happy to say, it didn't come to that. The inspection was completed today, and no deductions were necessary. If my irresistable charm and strikingly good looks had antyhing to do with it...so be it. I'm just glad the whole thing is finally over. I hate that fucking place, and I'm glad I never have to look at it again for the rest of my life.

Later.

This just in...

2005-04-17T15:05:00.000-04:00

...scissors are sharp. Uh-huh...and they're sharp enough to cut through skin. I just cut off a piece of my knuckle while I was cutting a UPC symbol out of a box. Jodi got a little grossed out because after it happened, the little hanging chad was still stuck to the scissors. Yum! It bled like hell too, but not at first. It was kind of like when toddlers fall down at the grocery store. You know what I mean...

Splat!

Five second look of shock/horror

Eye contact with Mommy

WAAAAAAHHHH!

Time to change my Band-Aid...again. Later.

What a week...

2005-04-10T09:52:00.000-04:00

We finally moved! The new place is great, and I'm just now coming up for air...for now. Time to unpack some more.

Later.

P.S. Phaedra Lynette :)

We picked a name...

2005-03-30T23:29:00.000-05:00

...but we're not telling anyone yet. Sorry. Oh, and I think I have a cyst. At least I hope it's a cyst and not one of those Guadalajaran shoulder tumors of death I've been hearing so much about.

I had a reading teacher in middle school who was pregnant and would set her coffee mug on her belly while she conducted class. I always thought that was funny, so tonight while Jodi was sitting next to me, I grabbed a coffee mug from the desk and put it on her belly. It was a little wobbly, but it did manage to stay put long enough for me to get a giggle out of it. It also left a dirt ring on her shirt, but I'm not sure she noticed.

Speaking of names, I finally got around to naming our fish (we've had them over a year now). I didn't name all five of them individually, I've just been collectively referring to them as The Schiavos since I'm always forgetting to feed them.
Later.

No means no...

2005-03-27T21:15:00.000-05:00

Happy Easter everyone. Now let's talk about things people do that make me want to kick them in the face. I never actually kick them in the face, though. Not because it's not socially acceptable. I just don't think I can get my leg up that high. Here's a short list. Feel free to add your own.

1) People who question my decision to eat/not eat certain foods: I was eating a baked potato the other day, and someone at the table offered me sour cream. "No thanks," I said (see how polite I am?). In my opinion, this is where the conversation needed to end. It didn't. "You don't like sour cream?" he asks, as though I just called his grandmother a choad-smoking crackwhore, which she may very well be, but that's probably not appropriate dinner chatter. Just put down the fucking sour cream and pass the salt, dillhole.

2) People with social amnesia: I'm not talking about real amnesia caused by blunt trauma to the head or anything...except for in cartoons or on Smallville where it's necessary to maintain Clark's secret identity. I'm talking about people who start conversations with stuff like, "Have you ever seen that movie Road Trip?" This isn't so bad once. I'll even give you a break the second time, but I knew this guy who asked me the same question about fifty times a week. Dude, I've seen the movie. I even know what part you're going to tell me about. Yes I thought it was funny. No, I no longer think it's funny. I hate you.

3) Redheads: Just kidding...my sister's a redhead.

4) Parents who live vicariously through their children: As a teacher and a coach (especially as a coach), I see this all the time. I'm not sure what gene causes this or if science has even isolated it yet for further study, but I'm hoping it's absence from my parents was not because it skips a generation.

I've got more, but the shellfish I ate for dinner has made me pretty gassy. Later.

Status check

2005-03-24T12:58:00.000-05:00

We got up early this morning and drove around our new neighborhood. We tried doing this the other night, but it was raining like hell and we got lost in about ten seconds.

Pharmacy: Check

Closest ciggie shop: Check

Quickest route to I-10: Check

Chinese Take-out: Check, Check, Check, Check, Check, Check, Check, Check...

Stray Cats: None :)

Winn-Dixie: Check

Big-ass Indoor Flea Market: Check

Tattoo Parlor: Check

Clean Tattoo Parlor: Erm...

Bowling Alley: See "Chinese Take-out"...unfortunately I CHOOSE NOT TO BOWL!

Video store chains: Plenty

Video store chains where we don't owe a month's rent worth of late fees: None (Thank god for Netflix!)

Nudie bars hiring dancers: 5

Nudie bars with ugly dancers: Apparently 5

I think that about covers it. Later.

Well, hello there...

2005-03-22T09:55:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a week. I've been busy...deal with it.

So, we're moving in two weeks. Our new house is pretty much the same size as what we're paying out the ass for now, but with these added perks:

-It's $125/mo. cheaper

-Tile floors

-Enclosed outdoor patio (That doesn't sound right.)

-Neighbors who don't want to kill us...yet

-Toilets that actually flush without having to take the top off and push the little plunger thing down so it'll stop running for fuck's sake

-A dishwasher (besides me)

-We're allowed to paint the nursery however we want

-Cupboards are already childproofed

Of course, there are a few things that suck about moving:

-Moving

-We may end up having to pay the last three months on our lease at the old place

-I'm no longer five minutes from work, so getting up 15 minutes before I have to be there is no longer an option

-The yard's twice as big. Good for the dogs...bad for my lazy ass.

-Nearest place to buy cigs is more than 30 seconds by car

-Pregnant women can't carry shit

All in all, we're very excited, though. Later.

Don't Tease Me Like That

2005-03-14T19:59:00.000-05:00

Did you hear about Russell Crowe's claim about a supposed al-Qaeda plan to bump him off to teach America a lesson as a "cultural destabilization plot" While I have a pretty strong opinion about everything fed to the press about terrorism being complete bullshit, let's assume for a moment that the story is 100% true.

1) Russell Crowe is a New Zealander. Killing him to teach America a lesson would be akin to wiping out Lance Armstrong in order to piss off the French.

2) Couldn't they have taken care of this before Proof of Life or Master and Commander?

3) Would it really be that bad if Hollywood blew up? Aside from Tamara and Allie, I think I'd be just fine. At least I'd be able to catch up on my Netflix queue for once. And beyond that, I'm still a little pissed about the whole Princess Diana nonsense. Yeah it was tragic...blah, blah, blah. Mother Theresa died five days later. How many of you remember that? See what I mean? Who gives a shit, Russell.

Later.

P.S. Please click on the "Random Link of the Day" before Jodi has a heart attack.

F the F.C.A.T.

2005-03-11T23:06:00.000-05:00

It's over...kind of. After months of preparation, the students finally took the proficiency exams this week. Once it was over, I managed to relax for all of about twelve hours. Now instead of the stress of the test looming over all of us comes the waiting for the scores (which don't arrive until June). To give you an idea of how widespread the anxiety can get, my friend related this story to me.

He was doing some yardwork last weekend when he noticed one of the neighbor kids sitting on the curb with her head in her hands.

Speedo: You OK?

Kid: Yeah...got a big week coming up (funny because she's only in the 4th grade)

Speedo: Oh really? What's going on?

Kid: sigh...F.C.A.T. It doesn't matter that I've got straight A's this year. If I don't pass the F.C.A.T. I fail for the year. It's just so stressful!

Poor kid. I'm not slamming the test, the fact that the kids have to pass it to graduate, or that part of the way I'm evaluated hinges on how well my students perform on it. That damn kid was right, though. It's just so damn stressful!

Later.

My dog can kick your dog's ass

2005-03-06T11:39:00.000-05:00

Well...probably not since all three of them are big sissies, but I do have a point. We took two of them to the dog park yesterday. We can't take all three of them at once because they run around as a pack and they act all slow motion Reservior Dogs scene and shit.

Anyway, the park we take them to has two main areas. One of those areas is for small dogs, and the other is for big ones. Still, people with small dogs will often insist on bringing their little foo-foo yippy-bitch dogs into the big dog area because they assume that since their precious poochykins that crap golden candy nuggets are so damned civilized that the other ANIMALS with no opposable thumbs and virtually no control over natural instincts will not notice the similarity between a scurrying Yorkie and the squirrels they chase around thte back yard on a daily basis. Then, they get all pissy when twelve Labs, four boxers, and my two mutts start chasing them all over hell. Fuckers.

Moral: If you can't party with the big dogs...STAY IN THE FUCKING SMALL DOG AREA!

Later.

The Name Game

2005-02-28T23:28:00.000-05:00

Here is a very, very, very preliminary list of names we've managed not to want to kill each other over so far:

Aurora (Nickname...Rory): Jodi's a big Sleeping Beauty fan. Before I knew her very well, I would have guessed it was because of the love story. Now I know it's because sleeping is the only thing she ever really wants to do other than ask me to make grilled cheese sandwiches for her and watch Law & Order reruns.

Audrey (Nickname...Audj): Hepburn? Sort of. It's a little more "less modern" than some of our other choices, which makes it unique without, in Jodi's words, "being 'Jemima' or something like that."

Gabrielle (Nickname...Gabby): Angelic...also a good Bible name (kinda) to keep my parents from having a heart attack.

Madeleine (Nickname...Maddeeiiyyie): We don't really know what suffix to add to the nickname. I think Maddy looks stupid, while Jodi is about to strangle me for suggesting 'ie' because she's had to suffer years and years of immeasurable grief from people who misspelled her name (family members included). Awww, Jodie...it's OK, my love. :) Yes, she's crying now.

Victoria (Nickname...Vicki): Vicki Vale = Batman = Super Heroes = I've tried to name every single one of our pets 'Batman.' This may be the closest I ever get to realizing that dream.

Veronica (Nickname...Ronnie): Jodi broke her 'ie' rule for this. If we have a boy next, I think we'll name him Jughead.

Alana (Nickname...Lana): Lana Lang = Superman = See Victoria

Yvette (Nickname...Chevette?): Jodi's name in French class was Yvette. Some guy in her class always called her Chevette. I've now heard this story eleventy billion times.

Guinevere (Nickname...Gwen): We really just like Gwen, but we can't name her a nickname. "She get's a real name," Jodi says. Also, Gwendolyn is out because my ex-wife's name is Wendy, and we don't want our daughter to grow up to be a (edited for MPAA rating).

Amber (Nickname...Amber): This one doesn't fit our nickname motif and will probably not receive further consideration.

Names we can't/won't consider:

Anything beginning with 'J': It's Jodi's opinion that the lack of adjectives beginning with 'j' will hinder our daughter's emotional development while playing "The Adjective Game" in second grade. Direct quote from my lovely wife, herself: "There are no 'j' adjectives except 'jazzy' and 'jumpy,' and those are shitty, they suck, they're stupid, they're crappy. I HATE THEM!!!" Issues anyone?

Zoey: One of my fucking friends already took this one. Bastard.

No Boy Names: Um...it's a girl.

Nothing that rhymes with 'Commode' or 'Toad': More issues. We're breaking down a lot of walls tonight, though, so that's a good thing.

Felicity: This was actually up for consideration until one of Jodi's friends said some shit like "Oh, I love that show." Keri Russel (Eight Days A Week aside) is not welcome in our home.

Nothing that will cause 5 hands to go up during roll call: Sorry Jennifer, Sara, and Christina...ain't happenin'.

Stripper Names: Velvet, Peaches, Candy, etc. Hey, I'm going to support her in whatever career she chooses, but that doesn't mean we have to choose it for her.

Hippie Names: Skye, Sunshine, Dharma, Kharma, Twiggy, One Who Sings With The Wind...Forget it. We live in a house, in a nice neighborhood, not a teepee on a commune. Manson is still in prison and David Koresh is still dead. There are very good reasons for this.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this catalogue of our naming process should not be taken personally. If you like some of the names we dinked from consideration, it's O.K. We still love you. You can laugh...it's funny.

Later.

Road Trip!

2005-02-28T20:23:00.000-05:00

It's 106 miles to Chicago. We've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it!

While that's not exactly how it all went down, it was pretty damn close. Saturday afternoon, Jodi looked at me and said, "I wanna take a road trip...just get in the car and drive somewhere."

'Nuff said. "Let's go." So we called our dogsitter (We love you, Becky), straightened up the train wreck that is our home, and took off like Jake and Elwood. We headed west on the panhandle and decided that whenever the half tank of gas was out, we would stop for the night. When we got to I-75, we headed south and ended up stopping in Ocala. We were going to stop at the first Ocala exit until we saw a billboard for the Ramada in that advertised some place called the "Pinstripe Cafe" and had a Yankees logo in the corner. Since the Yankees can eat me, we decided to push the limits of the fumes in the tank for one more exit.

No problem. We made it to the next exit, checked into an overpriced shithole of a Comfort Inn and settled in for the night. It rained like hell the whole time, and we did nothing but watch TV and eat some Dippin' Strips from Pizza Hut. But it was just so nice to get away together. Jodi's my best friend, and I can't wait to raise a family together with her. I hope I'm half the daddy that she'll be as a mommy. Not that that makes sense or anything, but you know...

On a lighter note, the date for 2nd Annual St. Patty's Day party has been set for Friday, March 18th. I know it's a day late, but stick it...some of us have to work for a living. I also don't want to give a particular guest an excuse to pull the same shit he did last year and switch to Red Alert Check soda because he has to get up early in the morning. Drunk Girl is planning on being in rare form once again as well. I already bought my shirt for the party. It's got a leprechaun holding a beer and says "Let's get ready to STUMBLE!" across the front. Should be fun times.

Later.

Decisions, Decisions...

2005-02-26T12:18:00.000-05:00

It's time to buy our first "girly" outfit.

Jodi's thinking this...

I'm thinking this...(Thanks, Martha!)

Later.

It's a girl!

2005-02-24T21:40:00.000-05:00

At least that's what the ultrasound lady said. I looked, nodded, and smiled really big, but I have to be honest, I couldn't really see what she was talking about. I do know one thing...she's beautiful! Click here and see for yourself.

After the ultrasound was over and we were waiting to see the OB/GYN, I was already trying to shape her young mind by whispering things through Jodi's belly like "Daddy loves you" and "Cheerleading is stupid." We made all the required phone calls and made a beeline for Target so we could register for Winnie the Pooh stuff for the nursery.

During lunch, we started kicking around some names. We ended up making a list of 7 or 8 that we liked, but many of the suggestions one of us tossed out were shot down by the other for a variety of reasons. Like this exchange:

Jodi: How about Tawny?

Me: grimacing...Uh, as in David Coverdale?

Jodi: Yeah, like Tawny Kitaen.

Me: I'd really like to stay away from naming our daughter after women my friends have masturbated to.

Jodi: Good point. So I guess Jenna's out, too, huh?

Heeee! In theory, I'd like to wait until the baby arrives and get a feel for her personality first, but that's dangerous ground. We waited too long to name our last cat, and now the damn thing only responds to "Kitty." Nothing against Dirty Dancing or anything, but I don't want a kid named "Baby." I'm sure we'll think of something.

Later.

Politically Incorrect?

2005-02-23T19:06:00.000-05:00

Having solved all of the world's education problems, the math department got into a very deep theoretical discussion today. We have a saying about kids who don't try on multiple choice tests. We say that they "Christmas tree" their answers. If you've never heard this expression it simply means that instead of putting forth any effort whatsoever, the student taking the test just fills in bubbles in some sort of pattern...such as a Christmas tree.

What's that? Some of you have actually done this? You're not alone, I've seen it many times. I've also heard this discussion on several occasions:

Student 1: Did you fail the test?

Student 2: Probably. I just Christmas treed the whole thing.

So the question came up today...what do Jewish kids say in that situation? The person who asked wasn't trying to be funny; it was really a legitimate question. We all had to admit that none of us had ever considered it. Several suggestions were kicked around until we finally decided it might go something like this:

Student 1: Did you fail the test?

Student 2: Probably. I just menorahed the whole thing.

As per usual, Mr. Clueless (who happens to be Jewish) brought the conversation to a halt when other religions were brought into question. Such as, what about Muslim students?

Mr. Clueless: They probably say they "bombed" it.

Game over. Later.

"Ignorance is Bliss" for $200, Alex

2005-02-21T18:21:00.000-05:00

Every other Friday, my sixth period class participates in an Academic Competition with four other classes. Each class sends a team of four to the stage and the brain brawling begins. The day before each competition, the classes spend some time writing hundreds of questions. Some of the questions are silly, like "Who is Sponge Bob's best friend?" But some of them really test the mettle of the students' minds. It's always nice to see my class win (which it did last Friday), but the real entertainment for me is to watch in awe at the moments of nightmarish ignorance that make me feel as if I'm watching a bad episode of "Jay Walking." Here are a few of those moments from the other day:

Moderator: What is the name of the song that begins "O' say can you see?"

Team Millan buzzes in first: The national anthem?

Moderator: I'm sorry that's incorrect. I want the title of the song.

Team Smitty buzzes in: The national anthem?

How about this one?

Moderator: Where was Super Bowl XXXIX held?

Silence...

Moderator: Where was Super Bowl XXXIX held?

Team Smitty buzzes in: More silence...Oh wait...Jacksonville! (That's right... less than two weeks ago...less than ten miles from our fucking school.)

And the showstopper

Moderator: What U.S. state's capital is Concord?

Team Smitty buzzes in: Connecticut.

Moderator: Correct! (WTF?)

Oh well...we won anyway. Free pizza this Friday!

Later.

Sciatica?

2005-02-17T21:29:00.000-05:00

Sounds like a bad Keanu Reeves film doesn't it? (Yes I'm aware that using the word "bad" makes it redundant.) In our first, "Holy crap! What's going on!?" moment of the pregnancy, we took Jodi to the doctor this morning to get an explanation for the fact that her knee hurt like all hell and her right leg was about twice the size of her left.

I was scheduled for my yearly evaluation at school this morning, so I had to get up a bit early and go sell Jodi's situation to the vice principal. I ran to the office from the parking lot (probably no more than 100 yards) and blurted out "Something's wrong with Jodi!" I really wasn't trying to pull a Lassie or anything. I was so winded that that's all I could come up with. Thank you Philip Morris & Co. I promised to be back as soon as I could, but was told to "go take care of her" and not to worry about it.

When we finally got to see the doctor, he took about two seconds to diagnose Jodi with Striatica, prescribe a sugar pill treatment of Tylenol and a heating pad, and walk out the door. On our way out, I had to ask the receptionist for a doctor's note to attach to my leave form at school.

"Please excuse Smitty from work. He was with his wife at Dr's appt. this A.M."

She could have at least offered me a lollipop. I did appreciate the fact that she just put "A.M." on the note and not the actual time so Jodi and I could drop by Wal-Mart and Cracker Barrel before making my way back to school right around the end of 2nd lunch. Aaahhhhhh!

So yeah...Jodi has Sciatica. That sucks :( Hey baby...move over to the left a bit, thanks. Oh, and I just realized I was calling it "Striatica" all day, which is why all of the women at work were looking at me like I'm a big jackass. Reminds me of this malapropism from last year.

Later.

NASCAR Nation Arise!!!!

2005-02-16T21:16:00.000-05:00

That's right folks, it's Speed Week in Daytona, and the 500 is on ly a few days away. Two hundred laps of nothing but left turns and awful pit strategy decisions by the #29 team. Jodi has watched almost every single practice and qualifying lap in an effort to repeat as NASCAR fantasy league champion this year, although I plan on kicking her ass all over the place. If any of you are interested in joining, shoot me an email and I'll send you the group info. Just to let you know, our group has a rule that nobody may choose Junior, Gordon, or Stewart among the five drivers you pick each week because it's the opinion in this particular household that those three are huge douchebags.

Later.

Patience, young Jedi...

2005-02-12T07:52:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure exactly what it's going to be like when late June rolls around and Baby Smitty's arrival becomes imminent, but if it's anything like waiting for the coffee maker to finish, it's going to really fucking suck. (Jodi: You know the coffee maker has a timer on it, dumbass.)

Later.

ATTENTION FREE WORLD!!!

2005-02-06T23:24:00.000-05:00

This message is to notify everyone that the Super Bowl is over. Please leave Jacksonville immediately and go back to wherever you came from. Thank you.

Later.

Classroom Management 101

2005-02-03T15:56:00.000-05:00

Pop quiz, everyone! Get out a piece of paper and a pencil and answer the following questions.

1) Short kid with a Napolean complex decided he's going to make fun of the little Chinese girl who sits in front of him. What would you do?

A) Write a referral so he can get cafeteria duty and make fun of her again tomorrow
B) Tell him Mr. Wonka called and wanted to know why he didn't show up for work today because a taste of his own medicine is all he needs to be cured of his assholery.

2) You catch a kid dipping in your class and spitting into a clear Pepsi bottle (jackass).

A) Write a referral so that he gets suspended for three days and misses out on more material, thus making his poor grade suffer even further not to mention give him three free days of dipping at home while his parents are at work.
B) Give him a choice between the referral and drinking the contents of the bottle.

If you answered B to both questions, you've been a fly on the wall in my classroom this year. The first kid just needed to be put into his place. He's got an 95% average in my class now, and I haven't heard a peep out of him (or anyone else) since then in regards to his fellow classmates. The second kid actually drank his own chew spit. I've met his father, so that was probably the best choice. The ass-whipping would have been pretty severe. On top of that, I can guarantee he won't ever pull any shit like that again. In fact, he's told me that he's decided to quit dipping because the mere thought of it makes him ill. Good for him.

My policy on classroom management basically boils down to this: "Don't fuck around in here." I'm not out to intimidate anyone or try to be a badass or anything. I just want them to understand the difference between a democracy and a monarchy.

Later.

Mentoring 101

2005-01-31T16:58:00.000-05:00

Mr. Clueless (see Wednesday's post) was in rare form this morning. I know I'm supposed to be his mentor and all, but I can tell that certain things are going to be a real pain in the ass pretty soon. Here are some of the things I had to "mentor" him about this morning:

1) How to use his new scientific calculator to do sine/cosine/tangent problems (which I showed him how to do on the exact same model of calculator last week...twice).
2) How to solve about half of the problems on the test I made up for Chapter 7 (which I showed him how to do last week...twice).
3) After I told him about the activity I did to introduce proportions in Chapter 8, he asked if I could remember any of the problems I used. Instead of doing more of his fucking job for him, I directed him to the old school Algebra book I use when I need problems like this to use as examples. You'd think this would have been enough direction for him, but then he asked, "Are the answers in this book?"
4) No matter how big/nice/appealing a co-workers boobies are, it's not appropriate to draw attention to your awareness of this. The setup: One of the teachers spilled coffee all over herself this morning. She came into the workroom during first period and complained about how badly she smelled and that she was going to need to take off her shirt. The comment: "Can I assist you in any way?" The reaction: Dead silence...from all of us...until I broke the ice with "Wow dude, you're fired."

It's gonna be a long year. Later.

How do you say it?

2005-01-28T19:07:00.000-05:00

Every morning at 8:16, we're led through the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance by whomever gets stuck doing the morning announcements. The vice-principal is all serious about it, the standards coach rushes through it like her drawers are on fire, and as always Office Woman takes the cake.

First of all it always sounds like she's learning the words for the first time, but the worst is the rhythm of her recital. I could be way off base on this, but I always assumed that EVERYONE who has ever said the Pledge has followed this pattern:

I pledge allegiance...
To the flag...
Of the United States of America...
And to the republic...
For which it stands...
One nation...
Under God...
Indivisible...
With liberty...
And justice...
For all...

Am I wrong about this? I've said/heard the damn thing a million times, and I have NEVER heard Office Woman's rendition of it.

I pledge allegiance...(OK so far)
To the flag of the United States...(dammit)
Of America...(wtf?)
And...(yes?)
To the republic for which it stands...(wait!)
One nation under God...
Indivisible with liberty...
And justice for all...

Since I don't have a class first period, I've never seen what effect this has on a class full of students. I can, however, vouch for those of us in the math workroom on our planning periods. We fuck it up...every time. It's like going to a concert and singing along with a song where the artist decides to sing it a little differently than it is on the radio. In my car on the way to the show, you nailed every note right on cue. Then at the concert, you end up looking like a jackass because you didn't get the memo about the key change on verse 3 or something.

You're saying it in your head right now aren't you? :)

Later.

Oy vey!

2005-01-26T21:17:00.000-05:00

Get this, I've been chosen to be a mentor for two of the new teachers. This is more than just "make sure they know how to use the copy machine" stuff. I actually have to go through training (uh...OK?). I think I even get paid for it, which is always nice even though it'll probably only be enough for a carton of cigarettes. On the other hand, hey, free cigs!

One of the teachers I've been assigned is possibly the most clueless person I've ever met. I'm not just saying this to be an asshole or anything. I've got witnesses. The head of the mentoring program stopped me in the courtyard the other day to tell me about his visit to this guy's class. Quote: "Wow, he needs to get a fucking clue." OK, he didn't say "fucking," but you know how much I like any and all variations of that word. Still don't believe me? Click here and scroll down to the example in Category 2. Yeah...same guy.

Today, a few of us were in the math workroom, and two teachers were discussing a fight that had occurred between two girls. From what I gathered, this is how it went down:

Girl One: Pepper sprays Girl 2 in the face.
Girl Two: Completely ignores the alpha strike and proceeds to beat the ever loving shit out of Girl One.

One of the new teachers couldn't believe it...said she'd never seen anything like that. Myself and another veteran teacher were impressed but far from surprised. Girl fights are nasty. In nine years I've seen some crazy brouhahas. Ask me to choose the top five? All girl fights...easy. Sensing our ho-humness, she asked us how we would have reacted if we'd been sprayed by pepper spray. Fair question, easy answer. I guess I can't really say for sure, but I'm willing to bet it would involve a lot of crying, the fetal position, and the need for a new pair of drawers.

My colleague's answer was pretty much in line with mine, and also pointed out the insult to injury for Girl One now that not only will she be getting suspended for using pepper spray but also received "a massive beatdown" in the process.

This is where Mr. Clueless decides to join the conversation. "What's a beatdown?" Um...what? Listen, I can understand that there are plenty of people in this world who aren't up on the latest slang for getting one's ass kicked. On the other hand, the guy was in the room the whole time. It's obvious he was listening to our conversation. Context clues, brother...context clues.

After we set him straight, I changed the subject by pondering the need for an intercom button in the bathroom of our workroom. There's already one on the wall by the door of the workroom. Why do we need another one in the can? I made a joke about calling the office and asking for some toilet paper (not like Office Woman could pull that one off or anything). Mr. D said something like "I've fallen and can't get up." And Mr. Clueless?

"Hey, I need a lighter for my joint."

I was on my way out the door when he said it, and I kept going without a response. Mr. D was right behind me. I turned around and could tell he was as baffled as I was.

"Where did that come from?" I asked.
"Hell if I know. That came out of nowhere. Might have answered a lot of questions though."
Mutual chuckle and head shakes.

Now, I don't want to get into a whole debate about pot and all that crap. I don't care what your opinion of it is, and I won't submit mine to you either. It doesn't matter. But how does that even enter the conversation as something you'd request from the office if you were in the bathroom? That's all I'm saying.

Conclusion: How scary is it that I'm actually going to be someone's mentor?

Later.

I can't believe I forgot about this!

2005-01-24T20:33:00.000-05:00

There was something else I wanted to put into the last post, but I couldn't remember what it was. Brain fart over, memory located. My school sent me to this workshop on Character Education the other day. I'm still not sure if it was because I'm supposed to be the contact person for the character ed. grant for our school or because my administrators feel I'm in desperate need of character training...perhaps a little of both I guess.

Anyway, the workshop leader was talking about a seminar she had attended in Washington D.C. where one of the speakers was a guy named Randy Sprick. I think she went on to explain more about his research or something, but I couldn't get past the fact that every time she said his name it sounded like she was talking abot Randy's prick. Being that this was a workshop on character education, I had to summon all of my strength to quell the junior high demons in me who wanted to laugh myself pissy. Apparently this guy's well known in the field because other people in the workshop started making aside comments to one another about him, and I actually heard these sentences uttered by my peers:

"Ooohhh, I'd love to see Randy Sprick!"

"Randy Sprick is awesome!"

"I love Randy Sprick."

I hear they're trying to decide between Hugh Janus and Heywood Jablowme to speak at the convention next year.

Later.

Gathering my thoughts

2005-01-22T21:25:00.000-05:00

This is going to be completely random, so hang in there...

Jodi's belly is getting bigger. That's awesome. We find out the sex of the baby on February 24th.

We took Sammie to the dog park today. She's becoming a lot more social (or sociable or something) However she did snap at a German Shepherd. Turns out the dog's owner had a Yankee hat on. Good going, Sammy...we taught you well.

I've been watching A League of Their Own on Encore this week. I need the practice in dealing with coaching fast pitch softball. The scene where Tom Hanks is trying not to lose it when he's reminding Evelyn about hitting the cutoff from the outfield is one I'm trying to master. While there may be no crying in baseball, there is plenty of it in girls softball. Not that there's anything wrong with crying and all, but I don't always come off as being the most compassionate person. I'm sure you all find that hard to believe.

The American Idol tryouts were on this week. Once again, I was pissed to see that nobody sang this song before proceeding to tell the judges to go fuck themselves for perpetuating the tragedy that is music radio today. Does anyone make good music anymore? As funny as it is to watch Dave Chappelle make fun of L'il John, that doesn't make it right.

I finally got a new cell phone after going almost three months without knowing where the hell the old one was. Unfortunately, the bills weren't getting lost too.

When did putting the collars up on a polo become popular again? Fold them back down, douchebags. It was gay then. It's gay now. What really pisses me off is that when shit like that comes back they only bring back some things. I think there should be a rule that if you want to flip the collar up you have to wear the denim jacket with the pop cap pins all over it. Oh wait, we're not finished yet. Take off those khakis and get some parachute pants motherfucker. Yeah that's right...not so cool now is it? Didn't think so. Just flip the fucking collar down already. Thank you.

I think that's about it. Later.

Stuck at work on a national holiday?

2005-01-17T14:15:00.000-05:00

For those of you pissed off about having to be at work while teachers and other state/federal employees sit around on our asses all day, here's something to direct your anger towards. It's also good for those of you who find there aren't enough activities at your job that provoke the spewing of vicious profanities...click here. Enjoy :)

Fuckers...

2005-01-11T22:12:00.000-05:00

Last week was great as far as teaching was concerned. We blew through a helluva lot of material, and the kids were fired up about it, taking in everything I could toss out at them. That doesn't happen very often. The learning process can be sporadic at best sometimes, so it was a thrill to go five full days in a row like that.

When I was leaving school on Friday, I checked my mailbox and found that the results were in from the second round of benchmark tests. Now, the tests don't really mean much other than to show how much they've progressed since the beginning of the year and are also designed to provide an indicator of how they will perform on the state test in March. Normally I don't give too much of a shit about stuff like that, but in light of the revolving door that has been the math department this year, I was hoping that, if nothing else, at least my students were learning something.

I started leafing through the scores and was crushed to see that almost every single one of my students' scores had dropped from Test 1 in August to Test 2 in November. Dammit. Again, I usually don't pay too much attention to these scores because there's not much incentive for the students to achieve well on the tests since the don't "mean anything" in terms of their grades or graduation. On the other hand, considering the fact that I truly believed I had just finished one of my best weeks as a teacher, I felt like I'd just been kicked in the nards.

I tossed the damn scores back into my mailbox and went to see if the other teachers in the Friday Club were going to Chilis. I figured a few beers would at least allow me to forget about the disappointment for a while. We try not to make a habit of talking about school shit while we're out, but the scores came up anyway. All of us seemed to have gotten the same cruddy results. Then one of the guidance counselors told us not to worry about it too much because the scores were like that across the entire county. That took a little of the edge off, but I was still pissed about it. I've been doing this long enough to know whether or not what I'm doing is working, and damned if I hadn't thought that the kids had been making some pretty decent progress this year.

I made it through the rest of the weekend without letting it bother me too much, but when I got to school on Monday, those damn scores were still in my box. I resisted the temptation to look at them again and just threw them into a filing cabinet for another day. I had pretty much forgotten about it entirely by the end of the day when I got an email from someone at the board office. Apparently, the two score columns had been switched on the printouts and the results we got on Friday were actually the opposite of how the students had performed.

Two thoughts immediately raced through my mind. The first...damn I'm proud of my students. The second...mother fucking dumbshit assholes.

Later.

Yes, it's true...

2005-01-04T22:57:00.000-05:00

...Pregnant women are beautiful. Well, Jodi is, anyway.

Later.

Good Times

2004-12-29T01:38:00.000-05:00

Jodi and I were reminiscing the other day about what we call "The Dream Day." The story itself is so long, convoluted, and entirely unbelievable that I normally tell it as though I'm describing a dream I had. I don't have the energy to tell all of it right now, but one of my favorite parts is that it involves a real person with the unfortunate name of Mike Hunt. For this guy's sake, I wish I were making this up, but I assure you I'm not.

Jodi and I were eating at Bob Evans, and she needed to turn in some Calculus homework to her T.A. Being the complete gentleman that I am, I agreed to take it for her since she'd already frozen off half of her ass getting to the restaurant and was still thawing out. After several miscues, I finally arrived at the correct building on campus and went searching for Mr. Hunt. When I couldn't find him, I decided to go to the actual professor's office to see if he could help me. I could hardly bring myself to say it, but I actually uttered the words "I'm looking for Mike Hunt" with a straight face. There were a few students sitting in the hallway studying for something or other, and they all started laughing like madmen. The professor acted like he didn't know what I was talking about, so I asked again. This time, a tiny smile managed to crack its way onto my face, but only for a brief moment. Again, the guy looked at me like I'd just pissed all over his desk, so I just turned around and walked out of his office. More laughing from the eavesdroppers.

Somehow, I managed to find the bullpen for the Math T.A.s and knocked on the door. Nothing. Another knock...still nothing, so I just barged in. A group of guys looked up at me from their card game, and I just blurted out "Mike Hunt!" One of them nodded and said, "I'm Michael." Michael? Yeah right, buddy. I'm sorry, but you've got the filthiest name on the planet. Michael isn't fooling anybody. I walked over to him and gave him some bullshit excuse about why Jodi couldn't make it to turn in her work herself, and then I started laughing like an eighth grader. I'm sure he's been picked on his entire life for his name. Hell, even his buddies started laughing at him. On the other hand, I may never get another chance to come face to face with another Mike Hunt again, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to enjoy the hell out of it. Sorry, Mike.

Later.

Santa's Blue Collar Comedy Tour

2004-12-24T22:04:00.000-05:00

We gave the dogs much-needed baths today. It had gotten to the point when people asked what color my dogs were, my answer was "filth." Since we were already wet, we decided to take a shower together. No this isn't going to turn into some Penthouse Forum letter. There's very little touching because Jodi doesn't like my soap, so it's kinda like playing Force Field in a refrigerator box. After we got out of the shower, we heard the sirens and horn of a fire engine. Then, someone started knocking on the door. We were running around naked trying to figure out what was going on. Jodi's a little more comfortable with her body than I am, so she just went out on the porch with a towel. When I finally got some clothes on and went to the front door, I was just in time to see the fire truck driving by with Santa on the back yelling "Merry Christmas" to everyone in the neighborhood. There was a car following behind the fire engine, but I was a little disappointed to see that it wasn't the Duke boys in the General Lee. Maybe next year.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Later.