Thursday, September 30, 2010

My Mama Didn't Say Shit About Days Like This

the good thing about not bringing enough toilet paper into the bathroom stall

and having to do an awkward bow legged walk back out to get more

and hoping no one noticed you going back for round two...

the good thing about that is that the worst part of my day is probably over.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

You can't break me.

Today the grade five tend du jour was wearing your hoodie backwards with the hood pulled up over your face. Puhlease Jin-ho, you act like you've never seen Kris Kross before. Take a history class already; you're not novel and you should know as much.

I think today's trend was specifically designed to traipse on my last exposed nerve, but the laugh's on you, you tiny little assholes. Any prank that muffles your yappy mouth is something I can get on board with. And I don't have to look at your face all class? Perfect, hoods up er'body.

How about calling me 'sir' every time I have use a stern voice to get the class under control? I of course use the term 'class' loosely; what I teach is better compared to the chimpanzee exhibit at the zoo after a heavy dose of lsd. A single cup of coffee can't compete with that, a trailer park in a tornado has a better chance of survival.

But it doesn't matter. Know why? Sometimes you cry and I think it's funny. Brittney Teacher for the win.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Songs I Swear I'll Never Get Sick Of

Rewind. Repeat. It's so good. It hits me right in the fedora loving spot. It tickles my barefoot lady keyboardist boner and then I start to rock in my office chair, that slight recline bounce, while flexing my right thigh muscle to the beat. Yeah. Muuuuusic.

Here it is, via video recording of my favourite Canadian radio show hosted by a man named Gian. And no, not the only one.

Texico Bitches.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Cultural Tips for the Culturally Insensitive

This week's cultural tips come from the Grade 6 lesson: I'm Stronger Than You. This week's topic: Cultural Gestures.

Thumb up: it means 'OK(agreement, permission)', 'number one', 'president', 'best', etc.

Thumb down: it means 'negation', 'objection', 'kill', etc. This has originated from the Roman gladiators' match in which the lost gladiator's life was up to whether the audiences held their thumbs up or down.

I'm going to go out on a cultural limb and say that thumbs up most certainly does not mean president, although 'Thumbs Up Obama' does have a nice ring to it. I've also never intended to kill anyone by flashing the tumbs down. Both of these interpretations make the game Heads Up Seven Up a little more interesting though.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Overheard in the Classroom

Quote of the week:

Kid one: "You're under attack!"
Kid two: "Your FACE is under attack!"

Then, during the "Pick-Up-The-Garbage-As-Fast-As-You-Can" activity, Kid two smeared glue on both his hands and proceeded to scramble around on the floor high-fiving the shit out of every piece of garbage that crossed his path.

I applaud your innovation Kid two. I applaud your inability to applaud becuase your hands are covered in glue.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Best Ever

It's like a snuggie, only more retarded.
Look, you can comfortably cross your legs while lieing on your back in your living room! Sure you might be more likely to die becuase you can't put your hands out to catch yourself if you trip, but it's perfect for camping sleepwalkers who don't want the hassel of getting in and out of their sleeping bags. The full leg zipper is also a great option if you want a little air on your legs, while keeping your upper body sung and confined. It's also great for those people who've lost both their arms in a tragic meat cutting accident but don't want to draw attention to themselves. All this and more for the low low price of looking like a complete and utter idiot. Call now!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Typhoon > Snowstorm

Top 4 Reasons Why Typhoons are Superior To Snowstorms

4. Typhoons have names. They're so epic you can call them by a proper noun. No one ever names snowstorms and rightly so because Snowstorm Bob, or Heavy Flurries Marg just doesn't have the same ring.

3. Typhoons are sexy. I don't really know what a typhoon is! I think there's wind and maybe rain but there an air of mystery about the whole thing that I find irrisistable.

2. Taken from my friend Grant: "The plural of typhoon is typhoon. The collective noun of typhoon is "an affiliation of typhoon."" Who, these guys? They're with me, they're my affiliation. (This means the previous reasons are gramatically incorrect, but "typhoon are sexy" sounds weird. Weirder.) I think the collective noun for snowstorm is just "a bunch" or "a shit ton."

1. Umm, I've never seen one before so I'm just pretty excited. Typhoon Kompatsu, you're a sissy little mommas boy so make like Kirsten Dunst in a crop top: bring it on.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Eight Year Old Me

If you had told me when I was eight years old that one day, when I was allllll grown up, I would eat seaweed four, maybe five times a week I would have laughed in your face, hard but only one syllable; HAH. I would have said, "You're craaaaaaazy! Did you take your crazy pill today?" And then I would have said, "Mind your own beeswax," but that's because I was a snotty little witch, as my mother used to say.

The first time I tasted seaweed was on the school bus on the way home from a long day of grade two. One of the older kids got it from her teacher during a lesson on god knows what. I tasted it because I was triple dog dared, which are virtually impossible to turn down. My friend Amanda Swagger would find this out several years later when we dared her to eat a snausage doggy treat. Afterwards we told her it was made out of horse penis and she threw up but that's neither here nor there. The point is I ate the seaweed and I said definitively that it tasted like fish food. Now I eat fish food in soup, fish food on rice, dried fish food, fried fish might say too much fish food.

To the kids on the bus eating seaweed was comparable to eating dirt, or saran wrap, or brussel sprouts. That's not edible! Are you trying to kill me?? I had reason to doubt though, the kids on the bus also told me that Eskimos (back when it was okay to say that) chewed on whale blubber for bubblegum. They told me that if my hair got darker when it was wet then it wasn't really blonde. They told me that Percy Goodswimmer brought a knife on the bus, unsurprisingly I had recurring nightmares about being knifed as a child. Actually in the dream I was a unicorn so my babysitter told me that unicorn blood was magical and they could heal themselves and then stab the bad people with their horn. Unfortunately when my little brother had nightmares about Pocahontas all I could tell him was that it was based on a true story. Sorry kiddo, history's rough.

Now I know that I was never on Percy's hit list. I know that getting your hair wet isn't the best way to tell its colour. I know Pocahontas isn't even the half of the story (The Last of the Mohicans is where things get really crazy). I know I was way too stressed about learning handwriting, which turned out to be a totally useless skill, and I know I still don't like licorice. I know marriage ceremonies on the playground are not legally binding. I know that monkey switching is actually just butting in line and I know, whatout a shadow of a doubt, that seaweed tastes like fishfood.