I am the face of evil…

April 11, 2011 at 12:27 am (Funny at least to me, Somewhat Serious) (, , , , , , , )

Yep, it’s true. I am what’s wrong with Western Civilization. I am the face of evil…though I kind of think if this were *really* true, I’d be a little bit better dressed, and wouldn’t be weighed down by this pesky conscience-thing. But apparently, I have become the undoing of society: I am a teacher.

And frankly, I’m getting a little tired of the being blamed for everything that goes wrong. I’m a teacher, therefore I am why kids are failing at school (not because parents no longer insist that school is a priority). I’m a teacher, therefore my union is hell-bent on destroying the local economy by demanding exorbitant salaries and job perks (such as health insurance, and wanting to earn enough so I don’t have to go out and get a part-time job to support my family).

But I’m not really angry. Just frustrated. It’s so easy to point fingers and place blame on the little people…and let’s face it, teachers are the little people in education. Society points at the school board, who points at the administration, who points at–you guessed it–the teachers. However, teachers are also the most important part of the educational puzzle. We are the ones in the trenches every day, trying to keep a broken system from destroying what is left of the educational process. And though there are bad teachers out there, just like there are bad doctors and business executives, society may be better served by *supporting* those individuals who spend more time with a child that their own parent, rather than attacking them for asking for a fair deal.

So I figured what better way to deal with my frustration than through sarcasm and technology? Can I just say Xtranormal rocks?

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Now with more Neil Gaiman

March 20, 2011 at 6:07 pm (Funny at least to me) (, , , , , , )

I didn’t realize how unbelievably awesome eBay really is. I mean, I knew I could go there and bid outrageous amounts of money on an old dishrag that showed the image of our Lord after mopping up an oil stain. That’s pretty cool. But imagine my surprise when I searched for one of my favorite authors and guess the hell what?

Neil Gaiman for sale!!!

Neil Gaiman for sale!! Now with Buyer Protection!

That’s right, kids. I can buy Neil Gaiman on eBay! And what’s better, they also offer me eBay Buyer Protection…in case, upon receipt of my Neil Gaiman and I find he’s not quite up to snuff, I can send his ass back.

I could have also titled this post: reason #246 that search engines suck. But what would be the fun in that? And if you don’t know who Neil Gaiman is, SHAME ON YOU!

So now that eBay is apparently in the business of human trafficking, who would you buy?

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It’s a gym you nitwit, not a beauty salon

February 25, 2011 at 7:37 pm (Funny at least to me, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

Photo Courtesy of elvissa on Flickr

Dear young blonde thang at the gym the other night:

I regret to inform you that you and your friend mistakenly entered into a gym…not a jungle gym, which would be more appropriate befitting your age, but a gym where people work out and sweat. A lot.

So while I understand you were a bit perturbed when I walked my sweaty ass into the women’s lav in order to wash my hands, I really was making a better use of the facilities. I know you desperately needed to know that your hair hadn’t lost it’s proper curl-to-skank ratio. And that your make-up was still attached to your face, because, god forbid, someone see you without eyeliner. But you’re not at a freakin’ beauty salon, honey, you’re at the local no-frills gym. Where I am the norm. Someone sweaty and without an ounce of make-up. And wearing some bargain t-shirts and sweats. Because as cute as your little leopard-print short-shorts are, they don’t really scream “take me seriously!” to the dudes I have to share equipment with. They do scream “take me!” though, so rest assured you will get plenty of the attention you claim to despise.

I also apologize for getting a bit perturbed myself as I had to wait to wash my hands because you and your friend were busy fixing said hair and making kissy faces at the mirror (because if you’re reflection doesn’t love you, who will?). I guess I don’t have the patience I used to with idiots. Sorry. I’m in my 30s. That’s the decade you become allergic to idiots.

Hopefully the dye-job didn’t seep into your brain, and you will be able to figure out that you were a bit confused on your surroundings, and we can co-exist in harmony the next time our paths cross. But lose the leopard-print shorts. They really do scream “take me.”

PS. And to the 40-something dude who couldn’t be bothered to say “thank you” when I held the door for you, despite my strong belief that my arms were about to fall off, your Certificate of Douchebaggedness is in the mail. “You’re welcome.”

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A year later & VD still sucks…

February 13, 2011 at 10:58 pm (Dating is Fun, Funny at least to me) (, , , , , , , , )

Valentine’s Day, you pervs. Valentine’s Day still sucks (though it goes without saying that Venereal Disease is certainly a unfortunate event as well).

But I am woman enough to admit that if I did have a significant other, I would so be expecting some candy, a car and a Ferrari. See, no one can live up to my expectations.

So in celebration of the little fat bastard, a.k.a Cupid, I give you some special Valentine greetings from those of us not so keen on the bloody holiday (and no, I have not become British…the mascot of the holiday is a non-toilet trained toddler who shoots *arrows* people, how could it not get bloody?)

zwani.com myspace graphic comments
Easter Graphics

zwani.com myspace graphic comments
Easter Graphics
cupid
Anti Valentine Day graphics comment

Button

Card

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I blame the teenagers…

February 1, 2011 at 3:07 am (Funny at least to me) (, , , , )

Potty humor...get it???

I’ve never been the model of propriety. E.V.E.R. I inherited the potty humor gene from my grandfather, and have also been blessed with the ability to say something inappropriate at the world’s most inappropriate time. It’s my gift. I accept it.

But working with teenagers for 8 hours a day has enabled me to rise to a new level of maturity…especially the boys. I’m not even sure a sailor could make me blush anymore. And I confess that as I listen to people speak, I hold back the urge (sometimes) to shout, “That ‘s what she said!” The result of my interaction with teenagers is a collection of everyday words that make me giggle. Which pisses off people trying to communicate with me on a serious level, which thank goodness, does not happen too often. So, I give you the top 10 words I can no longer hear without giggling.

1) sack

2) tea bag

3) your mom (technically a phrase, but it’s my list)

4) titillate (don’t judge–you know you just giggled, too)

5) junk

6) hard (pretty much in any way shape or form…usually used in a sentence which is followed up by “That’s what she said.”)

7) balls

8) pump

9) nut(s)

10) Uranus (like you don’t laugh at that one, too)

Lovely image of the potty by Bart Everson

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Reflections should be limited to mirrors…and clean bodies of water.

January 23, 2011 at 10:16 pm (Somewhat Serious) (, , , , , , )

It’s been about a year since I started this blog…mainly as a therapeutic outlet for my foray back into the world of dating. I kind of knew going in that dating in my late 30’s was going to be nothing like dating in my 20’s, but even I couldn’t predict the gauntlet I would be running in the quest to find a suitable mate.

It makes me appreciate the idea of arranged marriages. For real, yo.

The past year has been funny, but not really fun. Thanks for bursting my bubble, reality–most of the good men really are taken. I’ve meet a few…OK,only two…that I even considered real mate potential. One of those chose someone else, allowing me to ask distance myself and then ask, ‘What the eff was I thinking?’ So thanks for the help on avoiding a major mistake, dude #1. The second, is phenomenal. Truly–one of the most interesting and highly admirable persons I’ve met in years, let’s not even worry about the dating aspect. Which we won’t right now, because the fates, sadly, are having none of it. But he does give me that little seed of hope, which sometimes, is the best of all possible outcomes.

During this quest, there have been so many nutjobs that I worry about the toxicity levels of the water here in Western New York. One guy couldn’t have a conversation without talking ad nauseum about how much he hated his ex-wife and what an evil bitch she was. Way to move on there, dude. After I told him I didn’t think he was in a good place for a relationship, he told me I was mean. Which I took as a compliment, because what he really meant was I am sane. Two weeks later, I get an email from him that he got married over the weekend. W.T.F.? You must be very happy in that world of yours you appear to be floating around in.

And this is mild compared to some of the other nonsense. Good thing I’m a high school teacher and used to dealing with humans under the influence of hormonal rages.

So, I guess this blog post really doesn’t have much of a point…just seemed like I should reflect on the year. Great idea. Now I just feel like I need a glass of wine.

 

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Good thing I have 2 1/2 years to tackle this bad boy

January 4, 2011 at 2:40 am (Bucket List, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

Day 3 of the new year, and not one of my 40 items is on the horizon…though I did look at the papayas at the supermarket as a possible fruit never-yet-eaten. And the portabello mushrooms, because you are visiting the blog of the last existing human to have never eaten a portabello mushroom. But then I thought that mushrooms are really a fungus, even though they are in the produce section, so they can’t really serve as a new vegetable…that would be like saying I wanted to try driving a back hoe (which I would do in a heart beat if anyone was every dumb enough to allow me behind the controls in one), but instead I ride around on a tricycle armed with a shovel.

Actually, it’s probably nothing like that, but I am freezing tonight and it’s affecting my brain…like my fingers feel like popsicles. Great, I just looked at my hands, and for a second they looked like old lady hands…thanks for the reminder, hands!

So I am trying to decide what I should tackle first, but I’ll probably just sit here and freeze for a while.

Sorry this blog has no real depth to it…just felt like being a smart ass for a while. It’s my blog. I can do that.

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I blame The Magic School Bus

November 3, 2010 at 1:50 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

You know how society is crying how our youth grow up too fast? How kids are being exposed to sexual images by the evil media and turning them into little prostitutes and gigolos (OK, I had to look up how to spell gigolo, so I guess I’m not as risque as I thought)?

I blame The Magic School Bus. That’s right. The painfully bad mid-90’s cartoon that is supposedly teaching kids “science.” More like backroom biology!

So I’m at the gym, watching The Magic School Bus on closed caption. Don’t judge me, they don’t allow us to mess with the TV stations there. They are very controlling like that. Apparently the cracked-out bus has transformed into a space ship (oh, yeah, *that’s* scientifically sound), and is traveling through the solar system.

So what do I “read” on this innocent little kids show as they are headed towards Uranus (stop laughing just ’cause I said Uranus)?

“Uranus doesn’t do a thing for me…so you can get off of me, OK?”

I shit you not. I even googled the video to re-watch it, to make sure someone in the closed captioning service wasn’t messing with me. To make things worse, this is the scene in which the words are uttered.

The Magic Whore Bus is more like it!

How can our children be expected to remain pure with filth like this?!?!?!?

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