Siete Equis

That's 3 1/2 Dos Equis.it's all I can handle apparantly.

2 Things

1) Went on the walk-around town field trip with my class today. Left with 15 kids. Came back with 15 kids. Success! (Nowhere in the district employee handbook does it say it has to be the SAME 15 kids, either!)

2) There is an automatic paper towel dispenser in the ladies room at the bowling alley. One of those kinds that you put your hands under the light sensor-thingy and it spits out a ridiculously miniscule amount of paper towels for you. Half the time it doesn't work the first time your hands pass through the "field" (as if we were barcoded like a pack of gum at Walmart). This produces a martial-arts-like dance next to the sink by all who dare to attempt this slot machine of dryness. I would not have too much of a problem with it, except I think they should give us Kung Fu Fighting as background music. Or at least we should make a "brown belt" out of the paper towels for achieving any success whatsoever in our quest for dry hands.

Heavy Metal

Well, Moses had a staff that parted the sea. We've had staph in the field house. And now the staff went to a whole new place....The high school faculty faced off in the grand championship flag football game against the senior boys last night. I said it was the seniors vs. the senior citizens. That meant MyPoolBoy got to play against Lurch. It was hilarious to say the least. Lurch was talking smack and doing somersaults in front of MyPoolBoy to aggravate him.

I nicknamed it the metal bowl because of the silver hair and the various iron men and men of steel on the field (the iron and steel were in all the pins in knees, plates in necks, etc. on the old guys, mostly MyPoolBoy).

I told them they should have adopted new names like Ty Lenol, Jerry Tall, Ben Gay. I also offered to cheer De-Fense De-Fense for the seniors and De-Pends De-Pends for the faculty. It was not well-received. I think I am slightly underappreciated, don't y'all? Anyway, when their principal came out to hang out on the sidelines I heard MyPoolBoy ask him why he wasn't playing - I shot out that they were going to need SOMEONE still able to move a finger to dial subs for all of them tomorrow! Also not well-received.

Here's the punch line - the freaking faculty WON 21-20. HILARIOUS!

Not Bluffing

Here's how to beat MyPoolBoy at poker:

Wear a short skirt.

In the middle of an important hand, text him the message that I am wearing a thong.

I learned that from Ambre on Rock of Love. Who says there's nothing educational on TV anymore?

Bad in Bed?

So. Someone asked me if I thought MyPoolBoy looks like Rick Springfield...

Ummmm..... yes - when we are in bed together and my eyes are shut he looks EXACTLY like him!

Ok, I know, that was bad.

Aunty Em! Aunty Em!

There is something about tornadic activity on the Doppler radar that draws out the rednecks.

Thunderduck was on his way here from college and called us from a little past the halfway point. He said his first clue that there was a storm coming was when the black weather chaser vans with their big antennae came hauling a$$ past him on the highway. He decided to slow down and call us to see if he was heading into some kind of storm. We told him to stay where he was and let us call him to tell him when to head on in because we were going to watch the storm on the tv and yes, it was really a storm. Two, in fact. One was passing over us and another was headed his way in about 45 minutes so we wanted to keep him in between the two as he drove in.

So, he pulls over to a convenience store in a semi-small town and goes in to wait out the rain/hail and get a coke. Inside the store the rednecks had congregated. Thunderduck was beside himself and called me - "Mom, please can I leave yet? I'm having IQ points sucked from my brain just standing here!" Dumba$$ #1 comes running in from the hail and rain and decides he needs beer to calm his nerves. Dumba$$ #2 tells him that he thought it was letting up so they must be "in the eye of it" whereupon Dumba$$ #1 runs back out to his truck in the hail and rain to get the necessary funds to procure said beer. Natural Light being the beer of choice during just such an emergency, (like white wine with fish?) Dumba$$ #1 finds himself 6 cents short on money and is standing at the checkout line pondering is quandary. Dumba$$ #2 suggests that there might be money is HIS truck so HE runs out into the non-eye of the storm and digs around in the floorboards for the 6 cents. He triumphantly returned and there was much jubilation and celebration for the acquisition of beverages. Thunderduck at this point was DYING to leave. I told him that he should never look at being surrounded by lower-intelligence life forms as a necessarily BAD thing - it is ALWAYS to be embraced as an opportunity for blogging material.

You Are Not the Father

Maury Povich is proof that the white trash entertainment gods exist.

After reading a couple of posts on BannedCamp about topics like white trash wedding cars (shoepolished on the back window were the words "Just Married and Expecting") and the horrible names people give their offspring (Princess and Precious - giving rise to me remembering all the non-holy Jesuses and Angels and the especially ill-behaved Savior that have been through the halls of my school). So, of COURSE Maury was in order.

Well, the first chick was testing the 4th man, whom she met at a karaoke bar - he could not be there in person due to circumstances beyond his control (my translation: he is on parole and is not allowed to cross state lines)

Next chick - Forever (pronounced Fo'Evva) and her 3 children Eternity, Sincere, and Christopher (what the h3ll? CHRISTOPHER???? Were we having an off-day? Were there no perfume bottles around to inspire her?) Well - sperm donor #3 is not the father (surprise surprise)

SO during the commercial break, a Maury ad comes up to visit his website - where you can purchase little baby rompers with "I met my father on Maury" printed on them!

I want a t-shirt!

If You See My Mugshot on the News...

I told the secretary at school today that if they pile anything else on us this week, I will be identified as "The Shooter" in the news reports after I snap.