Just a couple of things
Cataclysmic warning=I'm dangerous.
If one more kid so much as utters the words douche and bag in the same sentence in reference to another kid, while within a fifteen foot radius of my head, well, I think I’ll run right out and buy a REAL douche bag, load it all up with vinegar and water, take it to school and just start hosing kids down with it in the hallways.
Douche bags.
If one more kid leaves the airbrush full of paint, the cabinets loaded with paint, the lids off the paint, the paintbrushes in the sink, pencil shavings on the floor, clay unwrapped, water buckets un dumped, well I’m going to bust them down to using nothing but crayons. So there.
Pigs.
If one more kid in my intensive drawing class, looks at me and whines these four words, “Buuuuutttt, I can’t draw.” I’m going to look them square in the eyes and say, “Then why the HELL did YOU take an ADVANCED drawing class?
You read the class description, it said,
Advanced drawing: This class is intended for students who are extremely interested in art and want to FURTHER their drawing SKILLS.”
It did not say, “Take this class if Ms. P is the only teacher on the faculty who can put up with your sorry, no trying, delinquent ass!”
And, it did not say, “Take this class if you can't draw a straight line with a ruler."
(Although at this point I wouldn’t mind kids who at least WANTED to learn to draw, THEY might be willing to put forth some kind of effort!)
Just do the damned drawing, struggle through it, I did, hell nobody can learn to draw for you, and it takes practice to draw proficiently, and there aint no frappin’ amount of whining going to get you to proficient.
Jeeze o peety weety.
And NO I will NOT draw it for you, I FRAPPIN’ KNOW I CAN DRAW!
Lazy butts.
Oh here’s another winner for ya, If one more kid shows me his/her paper and asks the question, “Is this good enough?” I’m going to say, “Well, that depends on what you intend to do with it,
line a bird cage? Maybe.
Look kid, if you have to ask whether it is good enough, chances are, it isn’t, and you know it. Chances are it’s just plain ol’ crap and you’re just trying to see if I’ll let you get by with turning in a piece of plain ol’ of crap.
Am I right, or am I right?”
Just enough to get bys.
And you, drummer boy, yeah you, if you so much as drum another finger, paintbrush, pencil, or any other thing that you can manage to create a rum pa pum pum sound with, I am breaking what ever it is that you are drumming in half, and then I’m going shove it right up your pimply A-hole.
Drummer than dirt.
Thank you grown ups very much for your time,
and you kids....yeah, you're right I am a grumpy old bitch lately.
Merry freakin Christmas.
If one more kid so much as utters the words douche and bag in the same sentence in reference to another kid, while within a fifteen foot radius of my head, well, I think I’ll run right out and buy a REAL douche bag, load it all up with vinegar and water, take it to school and just start hosing kids down with it in the hallways.
Douche bags.
If one more kid leaves the airbrush full of paint, the cabinets loaded with paint, the lids off the paint, the paintbrushes in the sink, pencil shavings on the floor, clay unwrapped, water buckets un dumped, well I’m going to bust them down to using nothing but crayons. So there.
Pigs.
If one more kid in my intensive drawing class, looks at me and whines these four words, “Buuuuutttt, I can’t draw.” I’m going to look them square in the eyes and say, “Then why the HELL did YOU take an ADVANCED drawing class?
You read the class description, it said,
Advanced drawing: This class is intended for students who are extremely interested in art and want to FURTHER their drawing SKILLS.”
It did not say, “Take this class if Ms. P is the only teacher on the faculty who can put up with your sorry, no trying, delinquent ass!”
And, it did not say, “Take this class if you can't draw a straight line with a ruler."
(Although at this point I wouldn’t mind kids who at least WANTED to learn to draw, THEY might be willing to put forth some kind of effort!)
Just do the damned drawing, struggle through it, I did, hell nobody can learn to draw for you, and it takes practice to draw proficiently, and there aint no frappin’ amount of whining going to get you to proficient.
Jeeze o peety weety.
And NO I will NOT draw it for you, I FRAPPIN’ KNOW I CAN DRAW!
Lazy butts.
Oh here’s another winner for ya, If one more kid shows me his/her paper and asks the question, “Is this good enough?” I’m going to say, “Well, that depends on what you intend to do with it,
line a bird cage? Maybe.
Look kid, if you have to ask whether it is good enough, chances are, it isn’t, and you know it. Chances are it’s just plain ol’ crap and you’re just trying to see if I’ll let you get by with turning in a piece of plain ol’ of crap.
Am I right, or am I right?”
Just enough to get bys.
And you, drummer boy, yeah you, if you so much as drum another finger, paintbrush, pencil, or any other thing that you can manage to create a rum pa pum pum sound with, I am breaking what ever it is that you are drumming in half, and then I’m going shove it right up your pimply A-hole.
Drummer than dirt.
Thank you grown ups very much for your time,
and you kids....yeah, you're right I am a grumpy old bitch lately.
Merry freakin Christmas.
posted by fineartist at 12:12 AM
10 Comments:
A good shower with vinegar and water is exactly what those whining, lazy, non-drawing, drummer than dirt teenagers need. Ingreats! No, not a Summer's Eve! A big ol' red, hot water bag with the hose and all (ya know, like mom used to have). Yeh, squirt it right at them....right in their eye. If those kids only knew what a real douche bag looked like, it would scare them to death. They would never use the term again.
Yeh, this grumpy ol' bitch is with ya.
Heee heee Lori, you crack me up! Oh, the mental picture I received from this post....
Heh Beck, remember when mom had a big Chili fest at the house and all the bikers came over to eat...
and one poor unsuspecting son of a...asked if mom had any vinegar for the chili...
and she said, "Yeah." And went into the bathroom to get it...
gaaaaaaaaaaaaa, gag, gaaaaaaaaa, and the poor son of a...said, "Rawww, uh, er, never mind, I don't think I want any..."
and mom said, "Well it's not recycled...gaaaa."
Erm excuse me because this is going to be a major leap forward in my education - but - are you seriously saying that your mother used to flush her vagina with vinegar?
For what reason?
Or is a douche for anything else?
Hurry back - my mind is boggled!
I'm having a cross-cultural thingy, too ... two nations divided by a common language? But whatever it's original purpose, I'm quite keen on my mental image of it being useful for your students :).
Hmm, lemme see if I can get this out there without being too, um, okay without being anymore disgusting than I already have been.
Vinegar has long been looked on as the magic elixir around here. Or maybe that’s just in my messed up fam-damn-ly.
If you were sunburned you soaked a wash cloth with vinegar and stroked it on your body. It evaporated off your body and took with it some of the heat, well it felt cooling before it evaporated anyway.
If your hair needed softening, you mixed vinegar in a glass of warm water and poured it over your head. Not much, just enough.
And if your *hoo hoo* needed cleaning, not that I’ve ever done it, but the old gals did, then you mixed it up in a douche bag and irrigated the canal. Though WHO would really want THAT to smell like vinegar…
Vinegar has healing properties they say, oh and cleansing too.
I have an old joke that includes the punch line, "Oh just make mine vinegar and water..." But I'll save that for another time.
Oh wait that reads like I've never cleaned my....
Oh well the damage is done now, I suppose.
I'll just be moving right along...
ha ha, I knew it was you even though I couldn't see the author at first. even before you mentioned teaching. Isn't it funny how we learn each other's writing voices. Hey sometimes you've got to vent. I am all for it.
snicker-snicker-snicker, my momma was a Massengil girl. It came in powdered form in the sixties. She had this scary looking apparatus with a giant bulb-shaped reservoir attached to a sort of scrawny dildo-looking thing with rows of holes in it. Thank GOD that by the time I was "old enough" to know what the hell it was for, she'd come to her senses and figured out the hoo-hah is a self-cleansing organ.
Not worried at all about your hoo-hah, Lori. I'm sures she just fine.
I was going to suggest a Summer's Eve squirtgun fight be prescribed for all the "douche-bag" sayers, but Becky is right. It wouldn't be scary enough. Call in the big guns.
Hey! Remember that scene in "A Star Is Born" when Barbra Streisand is reading the grocery list to Kris Kristofferson and she says, "Raspberry Douche" and he grins like a Cheshire cat? Took me two years to figure out why Raspberry Douche would make a man smile. Man, I bet she was riddled with yeast.
There, Lori! Now I'm grosser than you are!
I had to go and google that. Am I glad to know its a cocktail! http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink7657.html
Heheheheh, Kris Kristofferson, in that movie make me smile.
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