Rotten Apples

Yo!

Coming at you from the trenches of "winter break," which comes hot on the heels of "holiday break" and precludes the extra long "spring break." It's sadly becoming too expensive to work and send your kid to public school. And on that note...

Some Teachers Are Rotten Apples

Right before break started, my kid's teacher was presenting her dissertation so his class got a sub. This guy was a jackass of Grade A proportions. And since this blog is aptly entitled THE MAD MOM, I reserve the full editorial right to vent about his revoting display of high-douchery in graphic detail:

What kind of "teacher" brings in TOYS -- to only be given to maybe five students mind you -- to bring order to his class?  To add salt, when my kid voiced how upset he was about this unfair practice, he got yelled at for showing how he felt in front of everyone.  When I confronted said douchebag about his downright mean tactics, he had the sac to respond with, "You gotta give me something! How else was I supposed to get the class under control?" 

How about actually communicating with them, Jackass? I thought bringing toys into the class was against school policy?

It gets better. Apparently, he also told the class at one juncture that, if they fell out of line, he didn't want to hear about it "unless someone's head was smashed against the wall and they were bleeding." He's talking to six-year olds, people.

Word is, he used this vivid brand of descriptor with the kids all day, in between yelling at them continuously. Some of the kids were so traumatized they cried before bed that night and the next day.

So soothing to know my six-year old was left in his tender loving care! Who's next in line to sub? John Mayer?

And speaking of The Duke of irresponsible commentary...

The New & Improved John Mayer

This lovely tidbit was posted on Facebook by my old pal, Coulonious Monk. Sick, twisted, hilarious.

Blogger "Wunderkind" Steals Fashion Week

Photo: Racked.com

Seriously, there's something a bit disturbing about this Katie chick. Perhaps it's rooted in how the adults around her imposed that maniacal smile and frozen mien that causes her to closely resemble a coin-operated Dresden doll. 

How well can a five year old type, anyway? And how are legit journos like myself supposed to compete with some child scribe who'll churn out a post for an American Girl Doll outfit and three blow-pops? Where is the justice?

"I'll Have The Octopus!"

This "generous" man scored some tentacle-cooch for a number of reasons:

A) He likely thinned the octo-herd by deep frying Aalyiah, Jebadaiah and whatever-the-fuck-another-one-of-those-kids-are-called at this dinner, dipping them in soy sauce and inhaling them with a dash of kosher salt. 

B) The sweet-nothings he whispered over their romantic meal probably comprised of rehearsing that retort on an endless loop, to which she responded with a grateful aw-shucks giggle each time.

c) I'm going to hell, aren't I? You provide the handbasket, I'll provide the brimstone...

See you there!

xx

The Mad Mom

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