Twice a marking period we have desk clean out. This is when the students have to take out everything inside their desk and throw away the stuff they don’t really need. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit that these tards have been keeping in their desk.
By far the scariest desk was Antonio’s. He doesn’t throw anything away, and because of his obsessive behavior he flips out whenever we try to explain to him that he has to get rid of it. Some of the interesting things we found in his desk include.
1. A large pile of bloody fingernails. Antonio bites his fingernails like till they bleed and he tends to hoard them in certain places. I had to get out the latex gloves to clean this mess up.
2. A large pile of chewed tard pencils. These pencils were beyond destroyed, they were compost. The shear quantity of wood and graphite that this kid must ingest could probably kill a small mammal.
3. Four rolls of toilet paper, stolen from the bathroom. When I asked Antonio why he had these, he responded “Just in case”. I mean, what kind of fucking accident, and trust me I’ve seen them all, is going to require four full rolls of toilet paper?
4. A bunch of rubber bands. These I took away immediately. [See CITE]
In the end I explained to Antonio that he should only keep assignments, paper, and pencils in his desk. I then took away all his stuff and gave him two new pencils. I doubt they will make it to the end of the day.
Monday, November 9, 2015
#21: New computer isn’t “Tard-proof”:
The administration of my school in their infinite wisdom decided it would be a good idea to give our classroom a new computer.
Never mind the fact that we have a filing cabinet that is older than any of the staff, and has a history of trying to kill my students. They decided not to replace that, but instead replace our perfectly functional computer. If I sound bitter, it’s because I am, but the administration soon learned the error of their ways.
Our classroom originally had an Apple IIe computer. The tards were allowed computer time as a reward for doing something correctly, i.e.. going a full day without swearing, not hitting anyone for a week, not shitting their pants, etc.
This computer was very simple to use. The aids put a game disk in the drive and turned the computer on. Most of the tards who manage to get computer time know how to mash the space and enter keys, and that tends to be all that their games require. This computer never gave us a problem, other than occasionally having to pull shit out of the keyboard or turn it off and back on again because it got dropped. It managed to sustain drool, temper tantrums, flying objects, and repeated unplugging.
The same could not be said for our new computer. First of all we had to get all new games. The tards didn’t like this. It was frustrating enough for them to learn how to play the games the first time, having to do it twice was just unthinkable. This lead to a general dislike of the new computer amongst the tards.
One day Leigh saw one of my aids insert a CD-ROM into the CD drive to install a program. As soon as the aid turned her back Leigh had hit the eject button and slammed her hand on the tray hard enough to break it.
This made the situation much worse. Not only didn’t the tards like the new games, but we couldn’t even install them. After disciplining Leigh (she lost computer time indefinitely), I called the librarian (our schools PC technician) to tell her what happened. She said she would bring down a new CD-ROM and install it around lunch time. I asked her if we could have our old computer back, and she told me that the new one was far better, and I should really forget about the old one. This pissed me off. No librarian bitch is going to tell me what’s best for my class. I decided it was about time Jason got some computer time.
It took Jason about 3 minutes of frustration before he kicked the monitor off the table and hit the computer with his chair. Apparently he couldn’t figure out how to get the games started. The librarian gave us back our old computer because the cost of replacing our new one was just too much. Jason got punished, I took away his computer time indefinitely, or more specifically until I need another computer smashed.
Never mind the fact that we have a filing cabinet that is older than any of the staff, and has a history of trying to kill my students. They decided not to replace that, but instead replace our perfectly functional computer. If I sound bitter, it’s because I am, but the administration soon learned the error of their ways.
Our classroom originally had an Apple IIe computer. The tards were allowed computer time as a reward for doing something correctly, i.e.. going a full day without swearing, not hitting anyone for a week, not shitting their pants, etc.
This computer was very simple to use. The aids put a game disk in the drive and turned the computer on. Most of the tards who manage to get computer time know how to mash the space and enter keys, and that tends to be all that their games require. This computer never gave us a problem, other than occasionally having to pull shit out of the keyboard or turn it off and back on again because it got dropped. It managed to sustain drool, temper tantrums, flying objects, and repeated unplugging.
The same could not be said for our new computer. First of all we had to get all new games. The tards didn’t like this. It was frustrating enough for them to learn how to play the games the first time, having to do it twice was just unthinkable. This lead to a general dislike of the new computer amongst the tards.
One day Leigh saw one of my aids insert a CD-ROM into the CD drive to install a program. As soon as the aid turned her back Leigh had hit the eject button and slammed her hand on the tray hard enough to break it.
This made the situation much worse. Not only didn’t the tards like the new games, but we couldn’t even install them. After disciplining Leigh (she lost computer time indefinitely), I called the librarian (our schools PC technician) to tell her what happened. She said she would bring down a new CD-ROM and install it around lunch time. I asked her if we could have our old computer back, and she told me that the new one was far better, and I should really forget about the old one. This pissed me off. No librarian bitch is going to tell me what’s best for my class. I decided it was about time Jason got some computer time.
It took Jason about 3 minutes of frustration before he kicked the monitor off the table and hit the computer with his chair. Apparently he couldn’t figure out how to get the games started. The librarian gave us back our old computer because the cost of replacing our new one was just too much. Jason got punished, I took away his computer time indefinitely, or more specifically until I need another computer smashed.
#19: Joe's Pencil:
Needless to say, that tard room I work in doesn't have a pencil sharpener. I have one that suction cups to my desk that I keep in a locked drawer. Whenever I need to sharpen a pencil, I take it out, clamp it down, and sharpen away. Today I got the sharpener out for Antonio's pencil. I figured while I have it out I might as well ask if any of the other tards need their pencils sharpened. I make this announcement, and Joe immediately wedges his head under his desk and starts crying.
This doesn't surprise me. Joe usually acts this way whenever he has done something wrong. I walk over to him and ask him what the problem is.
"Nothin'" he replies.
I go back to my desk to begin sharpening tard pencils. Most of the tards come up, including Joe. One by one they hand me their pencils and I sharpen them. Joe steps up and hands me a magic marker.
I manage to explain to Joe that it isn't a pencil, and you don't need to sharpen it. Joe insists that it is a pencil and that I have to sharpen it. I'm about to explain for a second time, when Joe grabs the marker and shoves it in the pencil sharpener. He starts cranking the poor thing like crazy and the marker begins bleeding all over the desk. By the time I pulled Joe away from the sharpener he had mauled the marker down to a one inch stub.
I made Joe sit down and write an apology, with a pencil that I provided. In his apology Joe wrote about how he had lost his pencil and he thought I would be angry, so he brought up a marker. He wrote that he thought he could trick me, and he is sorry.
This doesn't surprise me. Joe usually acts this way whenever he has done something wrong. I walk over to him and ask him what the problem is.
"Nothin'" he replies.
I go back to my desk to begin sharpening tard pencils. Most of the tards come up, including Joe. One by one they hand me their pencils and I sharpen them. Joe steps up and hands me a magic marker.
I manage to explain to Joe that it isn't a pencil, and you don't need to sharpen it. Joe insists that it is a pencil and that I have to sharpen it. I'm about to explain for a second time, when Joe grabs the marker and shoves it in the pencil sharpener. He starts cranking the poor thing like crazy and the marker begins bleeding all over the desk. By the time I pulled Joe away from the sharpener he had mauled the marker down to a one inch stub.
I made Joe sit down and write an apology, with a pencil that I provided. In his apology Joe wrote about how he had lost his pencil and he thought I would be angry, so he brought up a marker. He wrote that he thought he could trick me, and he is sorry.
#18: Supermarket serves fresh tard:
I was going through the supermarket around 12:00AM last night. I usually shop late at night, as there is less of a chance of bumping into anyone I know. I was going through frozen food section, when I see one of my tards on the other side of the freezer glass, mashed in between packages of frozen corn and peas. He was smiling and fogging up the window while beating on the glass and saying "Miss Hammon!" over and over.
I'm think to myself, "What a fucked up supermarket--they serve frozen tard."
After that I thought, "Were the hell are his parents?". I was relieved to find that it was one of the push open kinds of freezer doors as he let himself out and walked over to me. I told him what he was doing is very dangerous and he could suffocate. This agitated him, and he consequently told me I was a cunt and that he thought I would like the surprise. He then spit on the floor and walked away.
I never found out if he was with his parents or not.
I'm think to myself, "What a fucked up supermarket--they serve frozen tard."
After that I thought, "Were the hell are his parents?". I was relieved to find that it was one of the push open kinds of freezer doors as he let himself out and walked over to me. I told him what he was doing is very dangerous and he could suffocate. This agitated him, and he consequently told me I was a cunt and that he thought I would like the surprise. He then spit on the floor and walked away.
I never found out if he was with his parents or not.
#17: Kunte still likes the bathroom:
Today Kunte asked me if he could use the bathroom. Since he hadn't already used all his bathroom visits, I let him. Once again, he spent a good 15 minutes in there, but I didn't hear any flushing or gurgling sounds. I knocked on the door and didn't get any response. Finally I opened the door to see what was going on.
Kunte was laying face down in the middle of the bathroom with his eyes closed. Immediately fearing the worst I rushed over to him to see if he was alive. As soon as I sat next to him and started looking for vital signs he sits up and looks at me. In a frantic voice, I asked him if he was alright, if anything was wrong. He smiled and said,
"No I was just sleeping."
"Sleeping?!?", I inquired, "If you needed to take a nap you could have asked to go to the nurse, why are you sleeping
in the bathroom".
"Because the tile is cool."
Kunte was laying face down in the middle of the bathroom with his eyes closed. Immediately fearing the worst I rushed over to him to see if he was alive. As soon as I sat next to him and started looking for vital signs he sits up and looks at me. In a frantic voice, I asked him if he was alright, if anything was wrong. He smiled and said,
"No I was just sleeping."
"Sleeping?!?", I inquired, "If you needed to take a nap you could have asked to go to the nurse, why are you sleeping
in the bathroom".
"Because the tile is cool."
#16: Joe's Assignment
In the front of my class I have a bin for submitted assignments. At the end of the day I'll go through it. Occasionally someone submits some work that's worth grading, usually however I just find spit balls, used tissues, chewed pencils, sheets of paper with curse words all over them, or someone's book. Today I was particularly bad, and I was basically dumping the bin into the garbage, when I came across Joe's submission.
Joe had taken a piece of paper, folded it in eight, as we usually do for math problems. Then instead of just using the eight rectangles for the problems, he cut each one out and made a stack of papers. He stapled the stack together, and submitted his work that way. This amazes me for several reasons:
-First of all the papers were cut, not ripped, this means he had to have access to a pair of scissors.
-Second the cuts were actually straight, very unlike Joe.
-Third, he had access to a stapler to put it together.
Despite this amazing effort, he didn't actually do any of the problems. Apparently after all that hard work making the booklet he didn't feel like putting anything in it.
Joe had taken a piece of paper, folded it in eight, as we usually do for math problems. Then instead of just using the eight rectangles for the problems, he cut each one out and made a stack of papers. He stapled the stack together, and submitted his work that way. This amazes me for several reasons:
-First of all the papers were cut, not ripped, this means he had to have access to a pair of scissors.
-Second the cuts were actually straight, very unlike Joe.
-Third, he had access to a stapler to put it together.
Despite this amazing effort, he didn't actually do any of the problems. Apparently after all that hard work making the booklet he didn't feel like putting anything in it.
#15: Malcolm's annoying chair
I was supervising a few students during their individual play time, when I heard the ear-piercing roar of our fire alarm. I immediately assumed my typical position next to the door, making sure the tards make it outside, while my aides herded them towards me.
Malcolm decided he doesn't want to go outside. The aide assisting Malcolm starts pushing him towards the door, and he immediately slams his chair into reverse. She pushes harder, the motor starts making a loud buzzing sound, and the room smells faintly of burnt oil.
I step forward and move Malcolm's finger off of the control, after this he starts rolling towards the door. The second I turn around to
check on the other tards he hits reverse again. Hearing that load motor buzz, I swing around and grab the side of Malcolm's chair, sliding his arm off the side and into his lap, making it impossible for him to hit his finger control. The aide then pushed him out the door.
Once we were outside and lined up, I put Malcolm's arm back on the side of his chair. Malcolm immediately started flying back towards the room. I grabbed his chair and held him in place, while the motor made that nice buzzing sound. Now all the teachers and their classes are staring at me holding this wheelchair tard in place while his chair is making the most horrendous buzzing sound ever.
I finally got fed up. In the hopes that he would drain his battery, I put on the manual breaks and walked back over to our classes line. Malcolm must have sat there buzzing for a good ten minutes. Finally after all the other classes went back, including ours, I took off his brakes and allowed him back into the building.
I still don't know why Malcolm wanted to be in the building so much.
Malcolm decided he doesn't want to go outside. The aide assisting Malcolm starts pushing him towards the door, and he immediately slams his chair into reverse. She pushes harder, the motor starts making a loud buzzing sound, and the room smells faintly of burnt oil.
I step forward and move Malcolm's finger off of the control, after this he starts rolling towards the door. The second I turn around to
check on the other tards he hits reverse again. Hearing that load motor buzz, I swing around and grab the side of Malcolm's chair, sliding his arm off the side and into his lap, making it impossible for him to hit his finger control. The aide then pushed him out the door.
Once we were outside and lined up, I put Malcolm's arm back on the side of his chair. Malcolm immediately started flying back towards the room. I grabbed his chair and held him in place, while the motor made that nice buzzing sound. Now all the teachers and their classes are staring at me holding this wheelchair tard in place while his chair is making the most horrendous buzzing sound ever.
I finally got fed up. In the hopes that he would drain his battery, I put on the manual breaks and walked back over to our classes line. Malcolm must have sat there buzzing for a good ten minutes. Finally after all the other classes went back, including ours, I took off his brakes and allowed him back into the building.
I still don't know why Malcolm wanted to be in the building so much.
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