I am not your normal high school teacher. I curse, I mock, I have student friends on facebook, I’m currently with a large group of them in the midnight Harry Potter premiere line. William just asked me to smoke a joint. Jesus. Do I LOOK like a joint smoker? I don’t think so. I think I look more like the manager of Dairy Queen somewhere in the middle of Grapevine Texas who would in NO way smoke a joint but would go to the Waffle House at midnight for a slab of fried ham and a griddle fried piece of buttered pecan pie.
I plan to end my teaching days weighing a minimum of 400 pounds, wearing a moo-moo, brandishing a ho-ho, as I ride my rascal up and down my classroom ramp.
Shouting, “Get the hell out of the way you little shits. F’s for everyone!”