Fiat…I Want A Check…And Condoms In The Glovebox.

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Ryan: The kids with their dad?

Me: Yup.  I might pull a Risky Business in a minute and do some air guitar in my underpants.

Ryan: Just don’t start a brothel in your house, or you’ll spend the entire weekend terribly concerned about an overpriced crystal egg.

Me: You just know his parents were at some high-end swinger’s weekend…some Eyes Wide Shut number.

Ryan: You mean where they wear masks, and could just as easily be attending a human sacrifice?

Me: WASP boners as far as the eye can see…

Ryan: WASPS don’t have “boners”, and they can only get them if they throw back a Cyalis with their single-malt.

Me: Thank God we’re just poor Irish-Italian immigrant trash.  Our people only needed a couch and healthy dose of shame, and it was on.

Ryan: Shame is Irish lubricant.  Also liquor, let us not forget the liquor.

Me: And the Italian side?

Ryan: Italians are passionate.  Any high surface will do.  Countertop…Tables…Hood of a Fiat…

Me: Back of a Vespa?

Ryan: I’ve heard you can’t get pregnant on the back of a Vespa.

Me: I think we just explained why you have so many cousins, Casanova.

 

Maybe It Was The Fact That I Fart Rainbows.

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PWDUB=Person Who Doesn’t Understand Bumper Stickers

PWDUB: “I didn’t realize you were gay.”

Me: (pause) “Well….that’s two of us.”

PWDUB: “Huh?”

Me: “I’m not gay.”

PWDUB: “Oh…but that sticker on your car…I thought…”

Me: “That sticker means I support equal human rights.”

PWDUB: “Oh…I thought…but, you’re always posting on Facebook about…

Me: “Yeah, that stuff doesn’t mean I’m gay…it means I’m not a dick.”

(the most awkward pause of all time…)

Me: “So…wanna talk about how much I love penis, or were you hoping to ask me if you could borrow my Indigo Girls album, and I just ruined everything?”

 

 

And I Shall My Make My Chapeau From the Finest of Tin Foils…and It Will Be MARVELOUS.

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***Yes, Ryan and I are obsessed with the NSA monitoring our texts.  We are clearly narcissists who read too many spy novels.***

Ryan: What was going on with Bugs and all the cross-dressing?  Was he based on J. Edgar Hoover, what with all of his spying and his manipulation of Elmer and Daffy?  He was OBSESSED with control.

Me: Oh, you totally know Bugs was into leather.

Ryan: Obviously.  Probably had an 11″ dildo in his nightstand, too.

Me: Well, don’t we all?

Ryan: I think it’s in the Constitution.

Me: Falls under the Second Amendment?  Right to bear arms?

Ryan: At 11″, it might be an ACTUAL bear arm.

Me: Ha!

Ryan: How does one purchase an 11″ dildo?  What exactly do you say to the store clerk?

Me: “You know…I just don’t think that 8-incher is getting me where I need to go.”

Ryan: “Here’s a picture of a bear’s arm…how close can you get me?”

Me: It’s too big to buy in person, one would have to purchase that item online.

Ryan: And you’d know this how?

Me: Logic!  Don’t judge me, you!

Ryan: Hey, no need to qualify the purchase.  It clearly isn’t for me.  Now it’s just between you and Visa.  And the NSA who is reading this, of course.

Me: Damn it NSA, I thought we were cool.

Teaching…It’s Not For Sissies.

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45tXMR0As I start my 16th year teaching special education, I’ve had the pleasure of spending much of the last couple of weeks with some new teachers, who are just starting out in their careers, and it’s made me reflect on what I believe, who I am, and what the REAL lessons are in education.  

1. You know how you’ve been able to go around just calling people “motherfucker” and flipping them off, when they’ve been shitty to you?  Yeah, well, you can’t do that anymore from 7am-4pm.  The irony is that you are going to be disrespected more in the next ten months, than you have in your ENTIRE life, and you’re going to have to respond to it with a quiet dignity that you didn’t know you possessed.  And yes, as long as it doesn’t come out of your mouth…mentally calling an eight-year-old a ‘dickhead’ is perfectly acceptable.

2. I don’t care how amazing your teaching skills are, or how good the lesson is that you planned…it can all be undone with one well-timed fart.  Doubt me?  Try and pull out your A-Game lesson, two hours after they serve burritos in the cafeteria.

3. That support staff you’ve sorta met?  Yeah…start kissing ass now, because if you piss off the nurse, the custodians, the assistants, or God forbid the school secretary…you are so totally screwed.  And I mean a solid, up-the-ass, no lube or foreplay, pillow-biter, because those bitches run everything you care about.  Even the principal is scared of them, and with good reason.

4. Do not, under any circumstances, get a class pet.  It is hell on you, and worse on the animal.  No creature on this earth has EVER aspired to be the thing that 35 second-graders annoy the shit out of, on a daily basis.  I’m 90% positive that in the Hindi culture, that in order to be reincarnated into a class pet…you have to run over a busload of nuns carrying kittens.  If PETA knew half of that was going on in classrooms, they’d forget the fur industry even existed.

5. Password protect your phone NOW.  You think I’m kidding, but I have yet to see a school year where a teacher’s phone WASN’T stolen, and I’ve seen them stolen by kids as young as 6.  Having to replace your phone sucks, but you know what sucks more?  Having no passcode on that thing, and now the entire eighth grade has everyone on campus’ private phone numbers AND those five pictures of your boobs that you sent your ex-boyfriend when you were drunk.

6. Be wary of parents who want to help too much…they’re better spies than any CIA operative, and you are their only interest.  If you have a parent who insists on helping, give them off-site assignments like copying papers or planning parties.  You want any more convincing?  Look at the relief on their own child’s face, every time they leave.

7. The first two years of your career are going to read like the first ten seasons of House.  You are going to catch diseases that you didn’t even know existed, and certainly can’t spell, and no amount of hand washing is going to save you from the twenty times a day when a child literally sneezes in your face.  Which brings me to…

8.  You’re going to spend countless hours of your life on the internet researching new material to enrich your classroom, but I’m about to give you the only website that will get you through this first year, and probably every year after…

The Most Important Website You’ll Ever Need…

 

To end…I’ll give you my 9th and most important tip…and this one I’m dead serious about, and it’s the one that means the very most to me… The kids you get, are the kids you got.  Parents aren’t hiding the good kids at home.  You have to find a way to love them…ALL OF THEM…because the one thing I know to be true…kids will not work for people who don’t care about them, and man, do they know.  I can name a thousand kids who can’t read, but I can’t name one that doesn’t know when a teacher doesn’t like them.  So, please…don’t be that teacher…find a way…

You are going to get kids with a myriad of disabilities and home issues, some of which make them nearly impossible to handle, but try and remember…these kids didn’t ask for them.  They didn’t ask to be different or socially screwed up or have shitty parents.  And yes, they’ll be a pain in your ass or make horrible choices, and make you want to tear your hair out, but, under it all…they’re kids.  They’re scared and sad and confused, and they need you.  You might be the first person to find something wonderful about them, that they didn’t even know about themselves.  You might be the first person to make them feel safe at school, and give them hope that they CAN do this.  You might be the only person who tells them that you love them, and I hope that you do.

I promise that they’ll move mountains for you…if you believe that they can.

Statistics…Like Analytics…But Without The Anal.

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It’s time for another round of terrible ways people found my blog!

 

 

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1. Who is googling “Steve Buschemi penis”, and does it have one crazy sad eye?

2. I’m not even going to get into y’all’s mommy issues.

3. Which one of you exactly, is “scrutinizing your vagina”…and wound up here?

4. If you’re looking for tips on “fantastic fucking”…this place isn’t going to help you at ALL.

5. I feel it necessary to apologize to the ghost of Leonid Brezhnev.  Sir, I swear I haven’t written about you, and I’m sorry you’re stuck in there with all the penis inquiries.

At Least The Secret Service Uses Lube…Because They Care

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imagesMe: Do you think the NSA reads our conversations?

Ryan: They do if they’re tired of tracking ISIS. Yup, we’ve typed ISIS…now they’re totally listening.

Me: Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll chime in on our debate over page 55 of The Joy of Sex, and add their two cents about the merits of armpit licking.

Ryan: I’m sure any fucking the federal government does, occurs in a “very uncomfortable place”.

Me: Especially the IRS.  They’re the WORST.  No foreplay at all.

Ryan: The IRS won’t even buy you dinner.  They make you foot the bill, and THEN tell you it’s not a business deduction.

Me: What would be the WORST government agency to have sex with?

Ryan: CDC…for obvious reasons.

 

 

***For my non-American friends…  NSA-National Security Administration, IRS-Internal Revenue Service (read: taxes), CDC-Centers for Disease Control

 

As Refreshing As A Garden Meadow In Your Vagina

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Tracy: “Sooooo, I met Hannah’s boyfriend.”

Me: “What’s the verdict?”

Tracy: “He smells strongly of vinegar and a spring meadow.”

Me: “Ohhhh nooooo…he’s a douche.”

Tracy: “Huge douche.”

Me: “On a douche scale from Guy Fieri to Justin Beiber…where does this guy fall?”

Tracy: “Rick Saloman, circe the Paris Hilton years.”

Me: “Wow…that’s…wow.  She doesn’t read my blog, right?”

Tracy: “No, why?”

Me: “No reason.”