I knew I could do it.

I knew I could get one more scatological reference into my blog before the end of the week.  Freshmen finally forced my hand into a seating chart.  I hate seating charts.  I teach high school and in my opinion a high school age kid needs to have the minimum amount of self-discipline to be able to sit and work for 30-45 minutes at a crack most....not all, but most of the time.  However, once in a while a class comes through that just HAS to have a seating chart.

Yesterday, two of my beloved frosh, decided that they found humor in tossing things out my second floor classroom window.  I don't know why we don't have screens.  I'm sure it's some sort of code violation, but whatever.  I found tossing things out the window hilarious, too.  Of course I was about 9 years old at the time and not about to enter drivers' ed like these upstanding examples of citizenship.  How's that for a scary thought?  Some of these kids are already old enough to start on their learner's permit and will be on the road in a matter of months and yet they still think that writing "boob" upside down on their calculators is the height of comedy.

I digress.  I'm a good digresser though.  Is "good digresser" an oxymoron?

I had to tell my class that they would be getting a seating chart tomorrow.  When they asked why, I told them, "Because throwing pencils out the window and laughing is sorta like monkeys throwing their own poop.  Only the monkeys actually find it amusing.  Anyone with more intelligence than a monkey just sorta finds it disgusting and annoying."

And that, dear readers, is my third scatological reference in the last seven days.  Dingdingfuckingding.  Winnah, winnah, chicken dinnah!

One more reason why Michigan sucks testicles.

Attention please.  Attention.

Michigan has not repealed the law making it legal to sell alcohol on Sunday.  What they have done is allow small businesses to buy a permit to sell alcohol on Sunday mornings.  

This enrages me more than the initial stupid ass law that had no business outside of Pastor Stiffley's personal preferences for being on the books in the first place.  There is not a single logical reason for alcohol sales to have ever been suspended on Sunday morning except to make people's lives more difficult and to pacify the Bible contingent.  Of course, there was the small chapter of non-religious women who also wanted a blue law on Sundays because they got tired of being used as punching bags by their drunken boyfriends whenever Favre threw an interception, but now Favre is in MN and most women have realized the best way to avoid pummelings is if their men drink at the bar starting a 8 a.m. instead of drinking on the couch in their own living rooms.

All pummelings aside, instead of repealing the law and some senator saying, "What in the cockleberries were we thinking?  Sorry about those years of inconvenience forced on you.  We have it fixed now."

Do we voters get that?  Nope.  Instead we get from some politician that I cannot help but picture as being Mayor Quimby saying, "We know it's a dumb law and not only are we going to keep it on the books anyways...we are going to use it to extort money from small businesses in order to fill our coffers.  We keep raiding the education fund, but even that pot is getting thin these days so we have to come up another way to legally blackmail the general public.  Y'know because $150 parking tickets, and cameras at intersections that will send the cops a pic of you making a rolling stop even though there isn't a car around for miles...well...those things just weren't generating enough revenue anymore.  For my next act, I will piss down your back while telling you it is raining."

If the law is no longer useful....get rid of it.  Don't tell me I don't have to obey the law if I buy a $160 special permit.

What's next?  What other laws can I get away with breaking if I buy a permit?

Say, Mayor Quimby, how much is it for one of those permits that allows me to make a feline salsa out of my neighbor's screaming tomcat?
*****
I could really use a special permit allowing me to shoot folks who don't use their turn signals.  Hell, if they sold those, I'd sell my house, live out of my truck, and stockpile those permits. 
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Aw damn...can I buy a "Smack a ho." permit?  Yeah, well see she's not my wife and Favre is in MN now so I figured I'd need a permit this time.
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The whole situation is nonsensical at best and basically criminal at worst.  FU Michigan.

My kid is an honor student. I is not.

I can't stand the "My kid is an honor student at FuckMeRunning H.S." type of bumper sticker.  To me that's just bragging.  You can talk to your kid and be proud of your kid, but to publicly put up signage about how awesome you think your kid is, makes me think you don't have a good grasp on what is important.  I wouldn't put up a sign that said, "My kid is captain of the football team/homecoming king/taller than your kid/stronger than your kid/more handsome than your kid."  

People generally consider it classless to brag about physical attributes, so why is it any less classless to brag about GPA?  It's still bragging.  Again, congratulate your kid for her efforts, but don't go printing up t-shirts for the entire family that say your kid had perfect attendance her junior year or stating that she was captain of the debate team because it officially makes you a dumbass.  Being humble is a very underrated attribute these days.  It's probably why I like those "My kid beat up your honor student" or "My kid impregnated your honor student." bumper stickers.  Okay, I've never seen one of those latter decals, but if I had a bumper sticker printing press in my basement, I would seriously consider doing a run of those.  Why?  Because I am one sick, sarcastic, SOB. 

My mental monkey is throwing its own poop.

I was thinking about whining in this entry.  I've been under the weather for about three weeks now and my sprained ankle is taking wayyy too long to heal which seems to indicate my thyroid medication may be bonking again.  What does that mean?  It means that I get to gain weight even while not eating an excess of calories, my skin dries out, my eyes will no longer tolerate contact lenses, there is no such thing as enough sleep, getting the energy up to work out seems like the equivalent of preparing to climb Mt. Rainier, and none of that even goes into the psychological slamming my mood takes because usually all of that also paves the way to basically constant depression.

So, after felling like ick for the better part of a month, I am starting to get quite legitimately pissy.  I think I am hiding it reasonably well at work, but the veneer between what shows and my true state of mind seems to be wearing thin.  All that being said, maybe it is Monday and the entire world can just bite my ass anyways.

On the bright side, this is the second post I've done in a week that used a scatological reference to describe something happening in my brain.  I'm almost daring myself to come up with another one which I know would just have to be a personal record of some sort.