Prisoner Transport: Part 1 The school bus had become our sanctuary, an oasis of acceptance in a vast desert of judgement where cruelty was a form of currency and there was always an abundance to spend. Children doled out to other children small nightmares as though their survival depended on it. The wrong kind of jeans could banish any one of us to “bottom bitch” status where identity was reduced to that of victim. […]
I stood at the end of the lane waiting for the school bus to pick me up and take me to a new school to start grade 9. The bus was small as there were only a handful of us in this particular pocket of the county who were designated to attend a junior high in the city. The small yellow bus stopped and the door popped open. “Are you John?” […]
The other day I was talking to joeyfullystated about flying critters that attack, so I thought I’d write about my brush with bird rage. It was a humid day in mid-August. I was probably about nine or ten, riding my heavy framed, red, CCM, no-speed bike (a bike with gears was for rich kids) down by the railroad tracks, minding my own business. I had about a one-second warning; the hair on the back […]
Originally posted on saneteachers:
The moment we’ve been waiting for! The Get the Party Started Caption Contest winners are…….drumroll please….. 1. “How we all felt the day after watching the red wedding.” CLASSIC This top winning response is brought to you by John Callaghan of http://getoffmylawnplease.com/ fame. There are 3 reasons why this quote won the top slot in this contest. First of all, it made me laugh out loud. Secondly, John Callaghan…
So this is today. If you look way off into the horizon you can see the Wildling army encampment. Winter is staying.
For anyone new to this blog, I’ll fill you in on what’s been going on in my life. Due to my massive following of about 150 people, I had decided it was time to take it to the next level and fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a cult leader. You can catch up by clicking the links. Or not. So last week I went to city hall and asked, politely, if I […]
Get Off My Lawn 