things that 15 year old me did sophomore year that my southern-bred god-fearing conservative christian teachers Did Not Like
teacher refused to let me sit backwards in chairs. i made a point to sit backwards in chairs until she told me to stop, and then id manspread as much as possible. (semester one.)
teacher got onto my friend and gave her a panic attack over her newly dyed hair. i told her my friend putting red streaks in her hair was no different than her removing the grey streaks from her hair. got sent outside. (semester one)
teacher told me my bra strap was showing. took my bra off in class and put it in bag. was sent to principal’s office. mother was called, although she only muffled her laughter over the telephone. (semester two)
[to homophobic teacher who disliked my mothers] “what language is gaelic from? gayland?” “that’s where my moms are from, ma’am.”
teacher claimed i was lying about moving to uruguay and tried to force me into sitting in a personal meeting about my future classes and goals. told her to “sign me the fuck up for underwater basket weaving” and got sent outside. (semester two)
was told by teacher that “ladies should not say they have to pee. try ‘can i use the restroom’ instead” replied with “alright. i gotta piss like a racehorse. can i use the restroom?“ (got sent outside. again. semester two)
was told to “smile, you’ll look nicer” by a 6′0″ male coach i did not know. when he blocked my entrance out of the classroom until i smiled for him, i said “shove it straight up your ass,” before elbowing him in the ribcage, ducking under his arm, and running for it. skipped class in that building for a week. (semester two)
hopped a fence to catch my bus and flipped off an ancient male history teacher when he shouted at me to come back. he threatened to find me again. he never found me.
everyone who writes their ‘7’s with a little dash through them had a conscious moment of truth where they actively chose to write ‘7’ in that way and never stopped doing it like if you can’t clearly recall that fateful decision wyd
i feel like this applies to a few things:
Uhhhhh…aren’t those 2s on the wrong side?
Them 2s are in the correct position.
lol They absolutely are not. Go into any kindergarten classroom and see.
If ur dyslexic, the 2 is absolutely in the right place, why is there a 6 on the other side??
I’m going to save up for a new motorcycle by running a scam where I bet straight dudes at bars twenty bucks that I can get a girl’s number in under five minutes and then politely walk up her and say, “I just bet that asshole twenty bucks that I could get your number. I’ll split it with you if you pretend to laugh like I just said a good pick up line and then write a fake number on my hand.”
Like, I never understood those kind of bets in those shitty teen movies. Everybody loves being part of a scheme, man. Use your head.
If anyone ever does this to me I’ll call them out on being a con artist.
Joke’s on you, buddy. That’ll only have consequences the first, what, couple dozen times? I can take a punch.
But then eventually, I’ll have money for the bike, and whenever I get called out, I’ll just speed off, and, sure, maybe I crash and die in a gutter and the police can’t figure out why I have hundreds of fake phone numbers stuffed in my jacket and it launches a huge investigation that becomes sort of a local legend, but you know whose problem that is? Not fucking mine.
Because I’m a slutty motorcycle ghost, and who’s gonna’ stop me then? The ghost cops? Nice try. Everybody knows cops can’t become ghosts because they just go straight to hell. It’s basic math.
Moral of the story, don’t be a con artist or you will die in a horrible accident and become a lonely ghost.
First of all, don’t you ever accuse me of having morals, narrative or otherwise, ever again.
And second, where did I say I’d be lonely? I’d a ghost on a motorcycle. You look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t bone Ghostrider. Look me in the goddamn eyes.
The Chaos Bitches 