No big surprises there. It’s fun, and stupid, and weirdly expensive. But then I saw their bio pages, and I fell in love.
I fell in love with Monique Hargrove, Urban Witch.
Don’t be fooled by Monique, you guys. She might have the spunk of a girl from South LA, but she’s been studying wicca with a Third Degree initiate. If magic was karate, she would be okay at it. She was the Coven Novice for a year and a day. What’s that? Your internship only lasted for two months, and you didn’t get a job? Oh, I’m sorry, but Monique wasn’t an intern. She was a Coven-fucking-Novice. She wasn’t anyone’s coffee bitch. She was busting her ass fetching pigeon downs and stale McDonald’s fries for her urban spells.
What I’m trying to say is, I just spent sixty bucks on a lust spell. I really hope Monique starts returning my emails.
After admitting, over a year ago and via blog, that she wanted to send students home with more honest comments on their report cards, Natalie Munroe—an English teacher at CB East—has been suspended pending investigation.
She was about to leave on maternity.
The comments she posted online were rude. But you know what else is rude? A video of a horse shitting on an Australian lady, and I posted that about two months ago. Nobody cared. The school will pretty much undoubtedly fire her for expressing her freedom of speech, and I hope to high hell she finds the time between her upcoming child and searching for a job to sue the pants off of that snobfest institution.
I hated East. Not because it was high school, and you have to hate high school, because high school is terrible. I hated East because nearly every person in that cinderblock prison camp acted like they were higher than God and more than a few times better. Even the comments on the article show that attitude:
“Central Bucks kids “tough”? Really? With some of the highest GPA’s, highest rate of college admissions, kids going to Ivies, the Service Academies, etc…Please….”tough” would be spending a few days teaching in some of Philly’s dangerous, failing schools. Perhaps Ms. Munroe would find the reaction to her postings there…a bit different.”
That’s a parent’s perspective. You know what kind of child comes out of a home like that? A little monster, bred to fear and hate anything too poor or too different to fit in with the new cars, the stunning test scores, the pretty-white-upper-middle-class-9-to-5-ness that their parents have continually pounded into them.
I did well in high school. I’m not that dumb. Even so, I generally fell by the wayside; I had teachers ignore me, I had to deal with the school forgetting to send test scores to colleges by application deadlines, I got picked on and left out and threatened. The school is no better than any other.
Then why, you ask, does it have such a great reputation? Because the majority population at East is white, comes from a $150,000+ salary home, and is, in a phrase, good at getting what they want.
Kids don’t get smarter at East. They’re already smart. The kids that went to Ivies were in honors classes as far back as the 6th grade. They were in the PEN program for gifted children. They went to Model UN and Reading Olympics. Then they got to East, started smoking weed on the weekends, and got too goddamn cool for you to talk to.
Kids don’t behave better at East. They figured out that manipulation works better than fighting. You want proof? They just hunted down an unpopular teacher until they caught her in an act of indiscretion, and now they’re trying to get her fired before she goes on maternity leave.
These little shits and their parents need a valuable lesson in respect, and I doubt that they’ll be getting it any time soon. But for Munroe’s sake, I sure hope they don’t get what they want this time. Even if she was an awful teacher.
—A man sitting at a toilet realizes that he doesn’t have toilet paper. He looks around and finds the hand towels missing. He sits in bewilderment for a moment, then hears a scratching noise. The camera pans to reveal a cat. Cut between the two, zooming in. Blackout.
—The guitar guy at the party is just taking out his guitar as a jihadist runs in and blows himself up. After the smoke clears, reveal two party goers coughing up dust. One says to the other, “Thank god, I hate people who bring guitars to parties.” The other nods in agreement and takes a shaky drag on a cigarette. Blackout.
—A man runs to catch a packed subway car. Soon after he enters, the conductor announces that they won’t be leaving due to unexpected construction. He says, “Well, fuck it,” and shoots himself. People on the car glance over, then pretend that nothing has happened. Blackout.
—A man in roller skates and hot pants skates around with a huge boombox blasting dance music. He wears a shirt that says, “Disco Ain’t Dead!” An enormous man suddenly appears as if from nowhere, tears the boombox out of his hands, and proceeds to demolish it with a mallet. In the ensuing silence, the man yells, “Now your shirt is ironic, you fuck!” Blackout.
I accidentally signed up for a class about genocide
Cheery, right? It meets in the evening, and the professor is a native Swede with a penchant for putting his foot in his mouth.
See, it’s this history class for people who don’t give a shit about history class. The official title is “The Present Through the Past,” which sounds like a PBS special for Black History Month (timely joke! Zing pow!), and it turns out that the professors get to choose what they teach.
And my professor—so Swedish we could buy another at an IKEA—happens to specialize in modern German history. But he “doesn’t like to be too harsh, but not too soft either, just perfectly honest about the happening and things in Germany.”
Of course I think he’s a Nazi.
But don’t worry, folks, we’ll be going over other genocides too. Armenian, Jewish, Tutsi, or just plain different, we’re going to learn about why someone decided to kill you!
Aside from “oh god I don’t want to talk about genocide twice a week for the next three months,” I really don’t look forward to the course because of the workload. I mean, the guy expects us to read about 200 pages every three days or so. What a Nazi!
But seriously you guys, I think my professor is a Nazi.