I was pretty weird in elementary school, I won't deny it anymore.
I was the loser of losers. Even other kids that I knew were losers, called me a loser. I was the freak of all freaks, mostly just because I was the one who made random outbursts in class and got yelled at all the time. I was never one of the 'angry' weird kids though.
One of the weirdest things I think I ever did was take a piss on the playrground. It was in the rain trench thing on the side of the soccer field and I didn't want to run all the way inside after asking a duty if I could pee. So, I just went into the trench and did it. I don't know what I was thinking, but for some reasong I thought no one would care. One kid noticed and screamed it out loud. Then everyone was pointing and yelling at me. The next thing I remember, one of the Duties is pulling me by my arm while my willie is hanging out and I'm trying to zip it up so no one see's and makes even more fun of me.
I remember sitting in the office for two weeks during recess after that, writing over and over again, "I will not go to the bathroom on the playground."
I also always got in trouble for throwing bark. Fuck the god damned school, if I want to throw bark, I'm going to throw it.
I also used to run around the playground and pick up as many popcorn bags that people had thrown away as I could, because ten bags yielded one free bag of popcorn. I think I broke a playground record for like 90 or something, because I hoarded them in my backpack for about a week and keep accumilating them until I couldn't stand not getting anymore popcorn.
When we went on our fifth grade trip to some overnight camp, no one would allow me to be in their cabin, and the school had to force me to be in this one cabin with these guys who all hated me. Sometimes those nights still haunt me. I remember someone taking my teddy bear and throwing it into a camp fire. God have mercy.
I posted this in a thread months ago, but I think it applies here as well.
Way back when I still attended elementary school I was sitting at my desk preparing for another smiley, happy day of school when the teacher announced that we would be having a new student join us. Being the friendly southern folk we all were, most of us were ecstatic at the thought of a newcomer. The heavy wooden door swung open, and standing in the doorway was about four and a half feet of pure retardation in a cheap, stained dress.
Now, we're from Kentucky, so there's a certain degree of ugliness that we could tolerate pretty well. This particular little girl was far beyond our ability to fathom, as far as being grotesque goes. Her hair, if you wanted to call it that, was more or less stubble on her head. It never got past standard flattop length. My money's on lice. Her teeth resembled those of Austin Powers (first movie) after a particularly violent round of hockey, which only accented her incredibly masculine jaw. As for the rest of her, if she hadn't been wearing a dress, her sex would be impossible to determine. She stumbled into class on sockless feet clad in shoes that probably dated back to WWII. Her name was Jenny.
It wasn't long for the malicious talk began, and though I did not usually approve of such things, I couldn't help but think that maybe all this stuff they were saying is true. After all, this young girl never made any audible attempt to communicate (besides the occasional deep bass of a laugh), she moved her hands in the most awkward ways, and she looked like she had descended from a loooong line of incestual marriages. It wasn't long before I knew the magnitude of her condition.
The smell was overpowering. Every day Jenny came to class smelling like she had slept in a horse's rectum and bathed in wino pee. Of course, producing offensive odors was something Jenny was quite good at. At regular intervals she dropped the anal equivalent of a hydrogen bomb, paralyzing us with wave after wave of noxious fumes. The teacher always asked if she needed to use the restroom (probably praying that she would get the fuck out of her classroom), but Jenny repeatedly turned down her offer by wagging her head back and forth in the most peculiar way. The rumors began to intensify. Most of them claimed that foul winds weren't the only things exiting into her pants during school hours. I didn't really doubt the pant-pissing stories, as I had seen her spirited away to the office more times than I could accurately measure at that age. But then something happened that trumped all of her previous escapades. Jenny soon became known as "The Roach Queen".
It was an average day. We were fooling around with some inane arts and crafts project when suddenly the teacher made a sound that sounded remarkably similar to a tornado siren. The source of her terror was obviously the massive roach making its way across a half-graded pile of spelling tests.
Obviously, the teacher wasn't too keen on the idea of her classroom becoming a living, breathing ecosystem (we dropped quite a few crumbs during snack time) so we were forced to search for the source of the infestation. We went on a quest to slaughter the mother fuckers so we could continue to consume delicious cookies while working on math, but we had no success in finding the Hive (capitalized for dramatic effect). Suddenly the teacher gets the bright idea to search the backpacks and see if someone was smuggling these little bastards in. Fuckin' bingo.
So we're checking and everything's going fine until a young (hot) girl bursts into tears. It turns out that the little creatures had found their way into her stuff. Normally we would have ridiculed her and cited her as the point of infestation, but all eyes were firmly set on Jenny, whose Nascar backpack had not yet been opened. With trembling hands the teacher unzipped the grimy thing and peered inside. Her face barely moving, the teacher calmly instructed the nearest student to bring a garbage bag. She then proceeded to lower the thing into it, textbooks and all, and tie it up securely with duct tape. Upon further inspection of Jenny's person, three roaches were found in her shoes (two dead, one not) and five more in the pockets of her dress. She soon "moved away" and we never saw her again, but on the last day I remember bringing our desks into a circle and telling Jenny all the nice things we thought about her before she went, as was our custom. She farted right as the last person finished. Never saw her again, but if I had to guess, she's probably bussing a table right now.
I know that there were some crazies at my elementary school, but for some reason I cant remember any specific incidents. Must have suppressed them somewhere along the way...
But I do work at an elementary school now and I have encountered some pretty funny/interesting kids.
For example two weeks ago I was walking past a building and I heard three little voices so I decided to investigate. As I rounded the corner I had to restrain from laughing as I found three kindergarten boys with their pants around their ankles peeing on the side of the building. I took them inside trying to explain why peeing on the wall was not allowed but I couldn't keep a straight face. I proceeded to call their mothers, who all had a good laugh and then agreed to pick up their son early. (All three boys accidentally peed on their pants when they saw me)
One of the "pee musketeers" is named Billy. Billy is very influential and convinced the other boys that it was ok to pee on the wall. Billy is also very violent...and very honest. He is constantly hitting and kicking other kids, and almost everyday I have to "have a talk with him" about treating others nicely. Now a lot of kids hit each other, thats nothing knew, but the way this kid handles the situations is pretty amusing. When I ask him if he kicked another kid he nonchalantly answers "yep, and I know it was wrong" and then proceeds to logically explain why he did what he did. He recently started spiting on other kids and then justifying his actions by saying, "at least I'm not making him bleed." The funny thing is that Billy is very honest. When his parents come to pick him up he automatically tells them if he hit or spit on someone. It's not even like he is proud of his actions or wants to get attention, he's just a very honest little guy. Most of the teachers hate him, but I think he's pretty funny and incredibly smart for his age.
Another time I was having trouble with a brother and sister who were tormenting the rest of their class. After class I tried to talk with their mother, but she ended up being the crazy one. I told her the situation and she replied that she didn't blame her kids because all their classmates made fun of them because she was their mother. I didn't really understand what she was talking about until I witnessed her outbursts first hand. While we were talking her son interrupted to tell her that someone called him a jerk. She marched right over to the 2nd grader and started chewing him out and called him a jerk-face...I guess thats one way to handle the situation. Then the other day she came into my class looking for her daughter who was in another class at the time. She started pacing around mumbling about someone trying to take her kids and got louder and louder until I found out exactly where her daughter was. Sometimes crazy parents rub off on their children, but I'm sure we could start a whole new thread with crazy parent stories.
There was a fat kid in maybe 2nd or 3rd grade who would pull down the front of his pants, pull out his pee pee, chase people around all while going, WHA! WHA! like some sort of karate guy, and would pull his foreskin back each time he would go WHA!
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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