It’s Like Real Porn…But With Less Nudity, But Somehow Lower Morals



Those of you who know me, know that I have a deep, abiding love of something that I like to lovingly call, “real estate porn”, and now I’m passing my addiction on to America’s youth.  While we were eating breakfast, I usually show the kids the news, but last Friday, we went on an MLS site, so I could show them multi-million dollar homes, prompting this…

D’Avonte: “Forty-nine million dollars!?  Who has forty-nine million dollars!?  And who needs sixteen bathrooms?  You only got one ass.”


**NOTE: I do NOT refer to it as “real estate porn” in front of my students…I like my job.  Ironically, I don’t think I have a student that hasn’t seen a tremendous amount of ACTUAL porn, but someone has to have some standards in this joint, and sadly, that’s me.**

And Only Because My Moat Isn’t Ready For My Narwhal.

Me: “Hey, when we win the Powerball tonight, whoever is the nicest gets the first pony.”
Caolinn: *eye roll*
Me: “I saw that.”
Xavier: “Guess who’s getting a three-legged pony with mange?”
Liam: “That’s gonna be one messssssed up pony.”

If Only the Powerball Offered a Manticore…



As you may or may not know, I work with children with severe emotional and behavioral disorders.  Almost daily, someone will tell me that they have no idea how I do my job, and I tell them that I *LOVE* my job.  My kids are the absolute best…they just need more care and understanding to get through a day.  Today, I was reminded, in spades, just how lucky I am, to do what I do.

(After I drew names out of the bucket to see who would get a special privilege this afternoon…)

Kid: “Yes! I crossed my fingers, and I won! It works!”

Me: “Hey, next time you decide to cross your fingers, think about me winning something.”

Kid: “I’m going to cross my fingers and hope Miss McMcerson gets a rainbow-farting unicorn.”

Me: “Awesome….maybe cash, though?”

Kid: *look of absolute disdain*  “Cash can’t buy a rainbow-farting unicorn.”

Me: “Touche.”

Note: Carry a random dollar amount of life insurance.

The Simpsons

The Simpsons

In preparing for next school year, it occurs to me that the only thing worse than reading these stories, is having to teach with them.  Kids, let me save you some time…

The Most Dangerous Game:  Oh, please…the most dangerous game is hunting an unarmed man across a private island?  Pffffft!  Everyone over the age of sixteen knows that the most dangerous game on Earth is playing “Just the Tip”.

The Metamorphosis: If you turn into a giant monster, your family will throw apples at you, wait for you to die, and then take a nice train ride in the country to celebrate.  It’s a pretty thin metaphor, teenagers…take note.

The Lottery: This story is actually ridiculously accurate, because, like Tessie, when you win the lottery, everyone you know is going to pelt you, only it will be with lawsuits and monetary requests, rather than stones.  And, yes, kids, it IS a little like the Hunger Games…only no one is remotely sexy, so the story is shorter to make up for it.

Flowers For Algernon: Oh, a depressive two-fer!?  We get to mourn an adorable animal AND a mentally disabled man?  Great.  Now, where did I put that katana and cyanide?  I know I put it somewhere.  Damn it.

The Monkey’s Paw: They wish for 200 pounds and the next day their son is killed, and they are given that exact amount of money, as a settlement.  Great, now I get to cringe every single time my kids throw a penny in a fountain.  Is anyone else concerned about what happened to the rest of the monkey?  I bet if you hadn’t chopped off his paw, he wouldn’t be such a dick.  Although, this story does have a zombie, and zombies are gold…just ask Hollywood.

The Gift of the Magi: Hey, guys, that watch is gone forever, but guess whose hair is going to grow back?  Yeah, that’s right…women are smarter when it comes to shopping retail.  Who’s naive now?