I HATE PEOPLE WHO ARE OVERLY POLITICALLY CORRECT!!!
I am probably the least politically correct around. This is not because I am racist, sexist or any of the other "ists" that you can think of. I am just tired of worrying about which group of people I might offend next.
Being a person who has worked in the mental health field, I have had political correctness thrust down my throat for a long time. I can remember when it was OK to use the word retarded. Now before any of you jump down my throat, I want you to think about the facts...
Retarded means - Occurring or developing later than desired or expected; delayed.
Really doesn't seem so bad now does it? People, however have given the word a derogatory connotation which really wasn't intended when the word was coined. The next politically correct (PC) term that was used to describe people with mental disabilities was mentally handicapped.
Handicapped means - A physical or mental disability making participation in certain of the usual activities of daily living more difficult.
Seems spot on to me. But to some, this too was offensive. From there, the PC term was changed to mentally disabled. Once again, the excessively thin skinned among us thought that this was also offensive. The term then went to mentally challenged, developmentally challenged, then to mentally delayed and finally to developmentally delayed. While I agree that some people have made the word retarded a rather ugly word, I wonder why we let it become so. As for the rest of the terms, have we become such a sensitive culture that is necessary to censor any word that might, in some minute way make someone feel bad? By censoring the words, doesn't that give them more power, not less? Besides, pretty soon we're going to run out of words that we are allowed to say.
This brings us to the "N" word. Now this is a word that EVERYONE (including me) finds offensive. New York City council recently backed a motion that would ban the use of the "N" word in the city. Do they really think this will make people less racist? It is just a word, after all. What ever happened to
"Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me"
Maybe we should change it to
"Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me unless they are particularly foul and politically incorrect"
What does this teach our children?
What about Michael Richards' tirade. Was it uncalled for? Absolutely! But we have people out there who are calling for the guy's throat. Now Richards is known as the biggest racist in Hollywood. His career is probably over and he will forever be apologising for saying those words. Don't get me wrong, Richards said some very racist things. Does that mean he is a racist? Not necessarily. He was very angry and hurt and tried to hurt the audience members by saying the most profane things he could think of. I am not excusing Richards' actions, but I don't think it is right for him to be stuck apologising for what he said for the rest of his life. Maybe we should just paint a big scarlet red R (for RACIST) on him so that he can carry his shame forever. It is funny that we can forgive our stars for assault, drug use, theft, drunk driving, even murder.... but saying that "N" word, now that is really bad! What about Mel Gibson's anti Semitic statements? Seems to me that APOCALYPTO got pretty good reviews and Mel seems to have been forgiven by his fans. Is Richards' "N" word so much worse?
It is upsetting to me that I have to choose my words so carefully these days as to not offend anyone. The biggest problem I have is knowing what is PC (I guess in reality, my biggest problem is not caring what is PC). If I was to say that someone was Native, would that be PC? Maybe I should have said first nations, native Canadian, I am pretty sure that the term Indian isn't OK unless you are speaking of East Indians (people from India). How about my African Canadian friends? What if they have never been to Africa? Is calling someone black or coloured OK, or should I say dark skinned? If I say dark skinned, however, that gives me the mental picture of a white guy with a tan. Is it even OK to call a white guy a white guy? Maybe I should be using the term Caucasian.
Now that I am good and riled up, I better stop before I say something that is REALLY politically incorrect and get everyone calling for MY throat.
All definitions taken from dictionary.com
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Dearest Sister-In-Law,
After reading through the reasons why I love you, I was inspired to write my next blog. In case you are wondering... yes, this blog IS partially about you, but even you cannot take credit for the entire blog entry. This one describes why...
I HATE BAD HOUSEGUESTS!!!
At the back door of my home, I have a door mat that says "How Can We Miss You If You Won't Go Away". This is certainly the feeling behind this blog entry. Since it is so close to Easter, I thought I'd list some houseguest commandments. Don't worry, Jesus died for your sins, so God will forgive you (your host/hostess may not, but at least you have God)
1. Thou shalt not leave thy dirty clothing all over the house. While staying at someone's house, it is common courtesy to keep your s#%t tidy.
2. Thou shalt not covet thy host/hostess' liquor. Even if they offer you a drink, to drink the entire liquor cabinet is not the best of ideas (besides, blowing chunks all over thy host's yard, house, dog (sorry, I guess it was me that puked on the dog) is not the best way to make a good impression).
3. Put on thy boots and get the hell out before thou overstayeth thy welcome. Some guests are a pleasure to have, but even the best of guests has to know when to leave. Remember the door mat... I can remember having a house guest that just wouldn't leave. He was like Chester and I was Spike (Remember the big bulldog from The Bugs Bunny show and the little terrier that followed him around and constantly made foolish suggestions and comments about what they were going to do -- Spike is a burly, grey bulldog who wears a red sweater, a brown bowler hat, and a perpetual scowl. Chester is just the opposite, small and jumpy with yellow fur and brown, perky ears. They always seem to be going after Sylvester). I can remember when he first started coming to my apartment, I used to have to lead him to the door and tell him I was going to bed. All the while, he would be saying "wanna have another drink? How bout a smoke? wanna do something?". Eventually I started telling him that I was going to bed and I'd leave him in the living room, usually with my roommate (I know, I wasn't being a very good roommate. But in my defence, he was friends with the guy too. I will have to discuss bad roommates later.)
4. Keep an eye on thy children. It ain't the host/hostess' job to chase your dirty little bas#@^ds! Keep them out of s#$t!
5. Clean up after thy self/thy children. Why should it be up to someone else to clean up after you and your rug-rats?
6. Thou shalt not Smoke cigarettes, cigars, dope, etc. in thy host/hostess' home unless they art doing it first. These days, even asking to smoke in the house is rather ignorant.
7. Thy toiletries should stay with thy luggage. Spreading thy toiletries all over the bathroom is a definite no-no.
8. Thou shalt not berate thy host/hostess. Calling thy host an a$$hole and thy hostess a slut is not a good way to be invited back (even if you are family).
9. Picking large pieces of skin off of thy disgusting feet and putting it on the kitchen table shalt NOT be done. I would have made this the first commandment, but it really should go without saying. Apparently, however, it does not.
10. Thou shalt not take control of the TV remote, especially if thy host/hostess are watching a show and they leave the room for a short time (to the bathroom, kitchen, etc.).
11. F#$king thy boyfriend/girlfriend on thy host/hostess' couch, guest bed or even in thy host/hostess' own bed (yes... it has happened) is right out.
12. Inviting thy self and thy boyfriend to stay the night by drinking too much to drive home and telling them that thou art too drunk to move thy car into the driveway and asking thy hosts to move it for thou ...(breathe...) shalt not be done. Call a f#$king cab and get thy car the next morning.
13. Thou shalt not rummage through thy host/hostess' fridge/cupboards unless thou art told to by thy host/hostess.
14. Thou shalt not complain about the state of thy host/hostess' house, about the food thou art being fed or about anything related to thy host/hosess while thou art sleeping under thy host/hostess' roof for free.
15. Whilst staying for a prolonged period of time thou shalt offer to help with dishes and/or preparation of meals.
16. Thou shalt not expect to be entertained by thy host/hostess every second of the day whilst staying for a prolonged period (more than a couple of days).
17. Thou shalt not expect thy host/hostsess' vehicle to become thy vehicle or thy host/hostess to become thy own personal chauffeur.
18. Thou shalt sayeth goodbye to thy host/hostess and thanketh them for their hospitality even if thou bear witness to thy host's unattractive roommate's girlfriend prancing about the house naked in the middle of the night.
19. Thou shalt closeth and locketh the bathroom door when thou taketh a piss (and washeth thy hands when thou art finished).
20. Thou shalt not suggest ordering out for food unless thou art willing and able to payeth thy share of the food bill.
21. Thou shalt not drool into thy hostess' mouth whilst playing "The Simpson's -- Loser Takes All"
That is all for today. When I find the next stone tablet containing more houseguest commandments, I will post them forth with.
After reading through the reasons why I love you, I was inspired to write my next blog. In case you are wondering... yes, this blog IS partially about you, but even you cannot take credit for the entire blog entry. This one describes why...
I HATE BAD HOUSEGUESTS!!!
At the back door of my home, I have a door mat that says "How Can We Miss You If You Won't Go Away". This is certainly the feeling behind this blog entry. Since it is so close to Easter, I thought I'd list some houseguest commandments. Don't worry, Jesus died for your sins, so God will forgive you (your host/hostess may not, but at least you have God)
1. Thou shalt not leave thy dirty clothing all over the house. While staying at someone's house, it is common courtesy to keep your s#%t tidy.
2. Thou shalt not covet thy host/hostess' liquor. Even if they offer you a drink, to drink the entire liquor cabinet is not the best of ideas (besides, blowing chunks all over thy host's yard, house, dog (sorry, I guess it was me that puked on the dog) is not the best way to make a good impression).
3. Put on thy boots and get the hell out before thou overstayeth thy welcome. Some guests are a pleasure to have, but even the best of guests has to know when to leave. Remember the door mat... I can remember having a house guest that just wouldn't leave. He was like Chester and I was Spike (Remember the big bulldog from The Bugs Bunny show and the little terrier that followed him around and constantly made foolish suggestions and comments about what they were going to do -- Spike is a burly, grey bulldog who wears a red sweater, a brown bowler hat, and a perpetual scowl. Chester is just the opposite, small and jumpy with yellow fur and brown, perky ears. They always seem to be going after Sylvester). I can remember when he first started coming to my apartment, I used to have to lead him to the door and tell him I was going to bed. All the while, he would be saying "wanna have another drink? How bout a smoke? wanna do something?". Eventually I started telling him that I was going to bed and I'd leave him in the living room, usually with my roommate (I know, I wasn't being a very good roommate. But in my defence, he was friends with the guy too. I will have to discuss bad roommates later.)
4. Keep an eye on thy children. It ain't the host/hostess' job to chase your dirty little bas#@^ds! Keep them out of s#$t!
5. Clean up after thy self/thy children. Why should it be up to someone else to clean up after you and your rug-rats?
6. Thou shalt not Smoke cigarettes, cigars, dope, etc. in thy host/hostess' home unless they art doing it first. These days, even asking to smoke in the house is rather ignorant.
7. Thy toiletries should stay with thy luggage. Spreading thy toiletries all over the bathroom is a definite no-no.
8. Thou shalt not berate thy host/hostess. Calling thy host an a$$hole and thy hostess a slut is not a good way to be invited back (even if you are family).
9. Picking large pieces of skin off of thy disgusting feet and putting it on the kitchen table shalt NOT be done. I would have made this the first commandment, but it really should go without saying. Apparently, however, it does not.
10. Thou shalt not take control of the TV remote, especially if thy host/hostess are watching a show and they leave the room for a short time (to the bathroom, kitchen, etc.).
11. F#$king thy boyfriend/girlfriend on thy host/hostess' couch, guest bed or even in thy host/hostess' own bed (yes... it has happened) is right out.
12. Inviting thy self and thy boyfriend to stay the night by drinking too much to drive home and telling them that thou art too drunk to move thy car into the driveway and asking thy hosts to move it for thou ...(breathe...) shalt not be done. Call a f#$king cab and get thy car the next morning.
13. Thou shalt not rummage through thy host/hostess' fridge/cupboards unless thou art told to by thy host/hostess.
14. Thou shalt not complain about the state of thy host/hostess' house, about the food thou art being fed or about anything related to thy host/hosess while thou art sleeping under thy host/hostess' roof for free.
15. Whilst staying for a prolonged period of time thou shalt offer to help with dishes and/or preparation of meals.
16. Thou shalt not expect to be entertained by thy host/hostess every second of the day whilst staying for a prolonged period (more than a couple of days).
17. Thou shalt not expect thy host/hostsess' vehicle to become thy vehicle or thy host/hostess to become thy own personal chauffeur.
18. Thou shalt sayeth goodbye to thy host/hostess and thanketh them for their hospitality even if thou bear witness to thy host's unattractive roommate's girlfriend prancing about the house naked in the middle of the night.
19. Thou shalt closeth and locketh the bathroom door when thou taketh a piss (and washeth thy hands when thou art finished).
20. Thou shalt not suggest ordering out for food unless thou art willing and able to payeth thy share of the food bill.
21. Thou shalt not drool into thy hostess' mouth whilst playing "The Simpson's -- Loser Takes All"
That is all for today. When I find the next stone tablet containing more houseguest commandments, I will post them forth with.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
--I've said it before and I'll say it again... I am not discussing people who have legitimate needs here. I am talking about people who can help themselves but choose not to--
In a previous post, I discussed my hatred for enablers. I think I now have to expand on that a little and give the reasons why I HATE THE PATHETIC, LAZY, DIM WITTED, WORTHLESS, SQUALID, SCHLUBS THAT PREY ON THE "ENABLERS" AND WASTE TAX-PAYER MONEY.
Just to be clear, a person can be down and out, but that doesn't mean they have to be lazy or that they should live off the system. I am not talking about people who legitimately need help and are willing to help themselves.
Why should we, as tax payers have to pay indefinitely for these mouth breathers while they take from the system and give nothing back? What really boils me is that these simpletons will spend hours working at not working. I think it is time for a change!
The other week when I was listening to this young guy beg the local churches for money, it just made me want to scream! It is one thing for this schlep to walk in to a federal government building and use a phone that is meant for job searching to beg for what I can only assume is drug money, It is quite another for this fellow to feel that not only is he entitled to use this phone for whatever he wishes (and it seems like there are many people who also feel this entitlement), he also feels like he is entitled to money from these churches! When the church ineptly offered the guy $80, he asked for more. When he was refused more, he asked to speak to someone else! When that request was refused, he begged the person from the church he was talking to, to bring the money to him because he didn't have a car and was too god damned lazy to walk there to pick up his ill gotten gains. When he was told to get off the phone because it is for job hunting purposes only, he proceeded to say that he is job hunting. As if everyone in the room could not hear the idiot begging for money from these churches (because his welfare cheque got lost in the mail -- nice to know our tax dollars are supporting him as well). I felt like clapping as this moron was told to leave.
Another guy who drives me nuts stands on a divider in the middle of the busiest intersection in town. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to walk far from here to the liquor store, or he would have to find another curb to stand on. This guy has been doing this for years. He stands out there and begs for money with a sign that says he's homeless. Hopeless is more like it. This is a young guy that is more than physically able to do work, but chooses to beg for people to give him money instead. Hell, I'm pretty sure that the shoes he wears are both newer and more expensive than my shoes. I guess the begging/welfare bum business pays well (note: a person on welfare is not necessarily a welfare bum... they can also be called bag lady, bindle, derelict, drifter, floater, gutterpup, guttersnipe, hobo, homeless person, stiff, tramp, transient, vagabond, vagrant (thanks dictionary.com) -- God! It's a joke... I HATE PEOPLE WITH NO SENSE OF HUMOUR).
What about those people who kind of want a job, but they don't want to work to get it (and probably don't want to work after they get it either). They expect a good paying job to simply fall in their lap. After all, everyone should be clamouring around to procure the services of such ultra talented people. Then again, there are those people who won't accept a job that they feel is "below" them. Guess what... when EI has run out, no job should be below you.
I also know people who have more children because they know that it will net them a bigger welfare cheque. More money means they can stay at home, have more babies, get more money, stay at home... see the pattern here? If we keep giving the people who abuse the system more money to support their additional children, pretty soon the human gene pool is going to be so diluted with lazy, mouth-breather DNA that we are going to see a de-evolution of the species! Maybe that is taking things a bit far, but f%#k! Do we really need to support generations of system abusers?
There are a few simple little "tweaks" to the current system that, in my opinion, could help people to help themselves. First off, I think that people who are able should work for their money. Why not get people to help keep the cities and towns clean in exchange for their cheque? Even if it is treated as a part-time job at minimum wage, at least people could contribute and maybe get some valuable work experience. Also, there is nothing like a long day of garbage picking in sweltering summer heat or blistering winter cold to inspire people to want to find alternative work.
As for people on welfare having more children to increase their cheque... how about giving people with no children MORE welfare money (and lots of birth control) than those with children. I know... it is a radical idea, but just think... If these people truly are abusing the system and having kids so they get more money, we could stop them from popping out more system abusers before they start. It'll cost more in the short term, but our children and our children's children will thank us.
In a previous post, I discussed my hatred for enablers. I think I now have to expand on that a little and give the reasons why I HATE THE PATHETIC, LAZY, DIM WITTED, WORTHLESS, SQUALID, SCHLUBS THAT PREY ON THE "ENABLERS" AND WASTE TAX-PAYER MONEY.
Just to be clear, a person can be down and out, but that doesn't mean they have to be lazy or that they should live off the system. I am not talking about people who legitimately need help and are willing to help themselves.
Why should we, as tax payers have to pay indefinitely for these mouth breathers while they take from the system and give nothing back? What really boils me is that these simpletons will spend hours working at not working. I think it is time for a change!
The other week when I was listening to this young guy beg the local churches for money, it just made me want to scream! It is one thing for this schlep to walk in to a federal government building and use a phone that is meant for job searching to beg for what I can only assume is drug money, It is quite another for this fellow to feel that not only is he entitled to use this phone for whatever he wishes (and it seems like there are many people who also feel this entitlement), he also feels like he is entitled to money from these churches! When the church ineptly offered the guy $80, he asked for more. When he was refused more, he asked to speak to someone else! When that request was refused, he begged the person from the church he was talking to, to bring the money to him because he didn't have a car and was too god damned lazy to walk there to pick up his ill gotten gains. When he was told to get off the phone because it is for job hunting purposes only, he proceeded to say that he is job hunting. As if everyone in the room could not hear the idiot begging for money from these churches (because his welfare cheque got lost in the mail -- nice to know our tax dollars are supporting him as well). I felt like clapping as this moron was told to leave.
Another guy who drives me nuts stands on a divider in the middle of the busiest intersection in town. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to walk far from here to the liquor store, or he would have to find another curb to stand on. This guy has been doing this for years. He stands out there and begs for money with a sign that says he's homeless. Hopeless is more like it. This is a young guy that is more than physically able to do work, but chooses to beg for people to give him money instead. Hell, I'm pretty sure that the shoes he wears are both newer and more expensive than my shoes. I guess the begging/welfare bum business pays well (note: a person on welfare is not necessarily a welfare bum... they can also be called bag lady, bindle, derelict, drifter, floater, gutterpup, guttersnipe, hobo, homeless person, stiff, tramp, transient, vagabond, vagrant (thanks dictionary.com) -- God! It's a joke... I HATE PEOPLE WITH NO SENSE OF HUMOUR).
What about those people who kind of want a job, but they don't want to work to get it (and probably don't want to work after they get it either). They expect a good paying job to simply fall in their lap. After all, everyone should be clamouring around to procure the services of such ultra talented people. Then again, there are those people who won't accept a job that they feel is "below" them. Guess what... when EI has run out, no job should be below you.
I also know people who have more children because they know that it will net them a bigger welfare cheque. More money means they can stay at home, have more babies, get more money, stay at home... see the pattern here? If we keep giving the people who abuse the system more money to support their additional children, pretty soon the human gene pool is going to be so diluted with lazy, mouth-breather DNA that we are going to see a de-evolution of the species! Maybe that is taking things a bit far, but f%#k! Do we really need to support generations of system abusers?
There are a few simple little "tweaks" to the current system that, in my opinion, could help people to help themselves. First off, I think that people who are able should work for their money. Why not get people to help keep the cities and towns clean in exchange for their cheque? Even if it is treated as a part-time job at minimum wage, at least people could contribute and maybe get some valuable work experience. Also, there is nothing like a long day of garbage picking in sweltering summer heat or blistering winter cold to inspire people to want to find alternative work.
As for people on welfare having more children to increase their cheque... how about giving people with no children MORE welfare money (and lots of birth control) than those with children. I know... it is a radical idea, but just think... If these people truly are abusing the system and having kids so they get more money, we could stop them from popping out more system abusers before they start. It'll cost more in the short term, but our children and our children's children will thank us.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
While cleaning the basement this weekend, my wife found a soiled diaper hidden under a chair. This diaper has been in my basement since November when my loving sister-in-law had another one of her crazy bi-polar express moments and apparently decided to hide s#&tty diapers in my basement. This is the straw that prompted the latest blog...
I loooove my sister-in-law part troissss
In part one and 2 of this series, I discussed 31 reasons why I love my sister-in-law. So lets start with 32...
32. I love her because there is not a vindictive bone in her body. She would never attempt to seek revenge against someone who she believes wronged her (except for a situation like #39). She certainly wouldn't hide used diapers around the house because she feels like she is being forced to live up to her family obligations which she selfishly wants to shirk, only to have those diapers found months later.
33. I lover her because she doesn't let the the happiness of her ex-husband get in the way of her happiness. Just because he has had his second child doesn't mean she has to get knocked up to prove a point to him. I am sure the reason she got herself pregnant again was out of pure love.
34. I love her because she would never apologise for anything that she does because she is always right. She would never go on a tirade about the terrible parenting skills of her siblings, about how disappointed her deceased mother was in her siblings, questioning the parentage of her siblings' children; and then offer a half assed apology for questioning the parentage of her siblings' children (which is the most ludicrous thing she could have said, yet it is definitely something she truly believes as she has raised the question many times before).
35. I love her because she is such a nice person. She is really wonderfully kind to everyone... Until they "screw" her.
36. I love her because she is not a paranoid schizophrenic. The symptoms of Schizophrenia include (according to healthsquare.com):
Confusion
Inability to make decisions
Hallucinations
Changes in eating or sleeping habits, energy level, or weight
Delusions
Nervousness
Strange statements or behaviour
Withdrawal from friends, work, or school
Neglect of personal hygiene
Anger
Indifference to the opinions of others
A tendency to argue
A conviction that you are better than others, or that people are out to get you
And since she clearly doesn't exhibit any of these symptoms, she is NOT schizophrenic.
37. I love her because she deals with her problems head on. She doesn't send out nasty notes to which no-one can directly respond. She deals with things in person and calmly tries to talk things out.
38. I love her because her because although her boyfriend's family cannot stand her, she makes a daily effort to find some common ground with them and mend her relationships. What she doesn't do is use her child (and soon to be children) as a weapon and tell her boyfriend's family that they can never see her child (I guess the same could be said for her own family as well). She wouldn't do this because her child would suffer the loss of these relatives. She knows that a child needs all the love it can get and she is selfless enough to put her child's needs ahead of her petty squabbles.
39. I love her because she KNOWS when someone is trying to screw her and she'll seek revenge for that, but she only seeks revenge against those who truly screw her. After all, they have little black hearts and deserve what they get. They are all a$$holes and should burn!
40. I love her because I know she is going to read this and be so overwhelmed by my love for her that she will immediately call anyone who will listen to her and let them know how much she appreciates me.
I loooove my sister-in-law part troissss
In part one and 2 of this series, I discussed 31 reasons why I love my sister-in-law. So lets start with 32...
32. I love her because there is not a vindictive bone in her body. She would never attempt to seek revenge against someone who she believes wronged her (except for a situation like #39). She certainly wouldn't hide used diapers around the house because she feels like she is being forced to live up to her family obligations which she selfishly wants to shirk, only to have those diapers found months later.
33. I lover her because she doesn't let the the happiness of her ex-husband get in the way of her happiness. Just because he has had his second child doesn't mean she has to get knocked up to prove a point to him. I am sure the reason she got herself pregnant again was out of pure love.
34. I love her because she would never apologise for anything that she does because she is always right. She would never go on a tirade about the terrible parenting skills of her siblings, about how disappointed her deceased mother was in her siblings, questioning the parentage of her siblings' children; and then offer a half assed apology for questioning the parentage of her siblings' children (which is the most ludicrous thing she could have said, yet it is definitely something she truly believes as she has raised the question many times before).
35. I love her because she is such a nice person. She is really wonderfully kind to everyone... Until they "screw" her.
36. I love her because she is not a paranoid schizophrenic. The symptoms of Schizophrenia include (according to healthsquare.com):
Confusion
Inability to make decisions
Hallucinations
Changes in eating or sleeping habits, energy level, or weight
Delusions
Nervousness
Strange statements or behaviour
Withdrawal from friends, work, or school
Neglect of personal hygiene
Anger
Indifference to the opinions of others
A tendency to argue
A conviction that you are better than others, or that people are out to get you
And since she clearly doesn't exhibit any of these symptoms, she is NOT schizophrenic.
37. I love her because she deals with her problems head on. She doesn't send out nasty notes to which no-one can directly respond. She deals with things in person and calmly tries to talk things out.
38. I love her because her because although her boyfriend's family cannot stand her, she makes a daily effort to find some common ground with them and mend her relationships. What she doesn't do is use her child (and soon to be children) as a weapon and tell her boyfriend's family that they can never see her child (I guess the same could be said for her own family as well). She wouldn't do this because her child would suffer the loss of these relatives. She knows that a child needs all the love it can get and she is selfless enough to put her child's needs ahead of her petty squabbles.
39. I love her because she KNOWS when someone is trying to screw her and she'll seek revenge for that, but she only seeks revenge against those who truly screw her. After all, they have little black hearts and deserve what they get. They are all a$$holes and should burn!
40. I love her because I know she is going to read this and be so overwhelmed by my love for her that she will immediately call anyone who will listen to her and let them know how much she appreciates me.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
I had a friend recently ask me to blog about my vasectomy (after he read about the horror that is the Barium Enema). So here goes...
I HATE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN VASECTOMIES!!!
When I first went to the doctor to speak about getting a vasectomy, he strongly recommended against it. You see, I was 26 years old and he thought I was too young to make that decision. At the time I was married with 2 children and I DID NOT want any more! Just because he's catholic and believes that every sperm is sacred and he has 15 children, that doesn't mean we all want to be in that same boat. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids (most of the time). I just don't want any more. My doctor went as far as saying "What if one of your children dies?". My kids aren't fish! Getting a new one does not replace the one that is lost. So finally he agrees to set up an appointment with a specialist that will perform the butchery.
My first (and only) consultation with the doctor before the surgery was certainly not the most fun I've ever had. If I was turned on by old men with sandpaper hands, I might have needed a cigarette after the meeting. I figured that he would explain the procedure, give me some pamphlets and send me on my way... WRONGO! The doctor tells me upon entering his office to drop my pants and sit on the examination table.
Well... maybe I should've expected it, but I didn't. The doctor very nonchalantly, moves my penis out of the way and starts going to town. He was pulling on my tool bag like he was trying to start a stubborn lawnmower. It was like my sac was filled with McDonald's cheeseburgers and he was the Hamburgler. He stretched my nut sac out and squeezed it with his sandpaper-like hands (it felt like I was doing "Satin Nut-Sac"--for those of you who use Mary-Kay Satin Hands, imagine using the Satin Smoothie Hand Scrub -- used to be called buffing cream -- on your most sensitive areas... not good!) until he found the tubes that he planned on cutting. I really wasn't paying any attention to the doctor as he explained what the vasectomy procedure entailed as I was feeling a little like I was visiting with Karl Toft (Google him if you don't know who he is).
When the molestation finally ended, I went home with the pamphlets.
After a few weeks, I received the appointment date for the surgery. Oh Joy, Oh Bliss! I was having a vasectomy on my 27 birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!!!
When V-Day arrived, I went to the hospital with my wife and was greeted by the sight of about a dozen pale faced, terrified men waiting to be scarred for life. I guess they were going to set up an assembly line and put us through.
After filling out the paper-work, I stripped, put on the ever-so-fashionable Johnny Shirt, I took my place in line and waited... A while later, a nurse came over and offered me some valium, which I gratefully accepted. Shortly after taking the Valium, I began feeling really good. It was like floating on air. I was no longer nervous and the stress of V-Day seemed to fade into the clouds... That is, until they came to wheel me to the OR.
I have never wanted to run away as much as I did at that moment. I was wheeled into the operating room and saw 10 or 11 people (maybe it was a combination of my fear and the valium, but it seemed that there were 9 or 10 beautiful nurses and my buddy, Sandpaper-Hands), a huge light and lots of equipment.
Most people I know (at least since the now infamous Seinfeld episode) have heard of shrinkage. It is the process of the male genetalia shrinking to a small fraction of its normal size due to cold. What not everyone knows is... this can also happen due to nervousness. Now, on a normal day, I am no Ron Jeremy; So you can only imagine how I felt on that day. This turtle was so frightened that I almost turned female!
So the doctor starts, once again, pulling at my nuggets and the nurses gather around for the show. I have one rather hot nurse telling me how great I am doing. Yeah!!! I feel great! Once the doctor has finished stretching me like pizza dough, he coats me with cold iodine and pulls out the needles. For those of you who have never had a needle stuck in your coin purse, I don't recommend it. IT ISN'T FUN!!
Now I am laying there with my "manhood", as it were, exposed, coated in iodine, a room full of people clamouring around me, waiting for the freezing to take hold. When I dreamed of being in a room full of nurses with my pants down, this is damn sure not how I pictured it happening!
Next came the surgery... I don't know how most people feel about methods of figuring out whether or not the freezing has taken hold, but I am of the opinion that cutting and asking what side of the marble pouch is being cut as you do it is not the best of ways. What if it wasn't fully frozen?!? ... Luckily it was and the old man could complete the procedure. After what seemed like hours of pulling and tugging, the procedure was complete. I now had a date with a frozen bag of peas.
I spent the next couple of days moving as little as possible and hoping my huge, swollen walnuts would shrink back to their normal size. One thing that it seems no-one ever tells guys who get this procedure done is the difference in the way they hang afterward. It takes a while to get used to the boys hanging lower, but eventually you do. The main problem I had with the new feeling had to do with the detachment. I kept feeling like I no longer had a left or right. It felt as though they would switch places periodically (which of course they don't because they are still attached). They aren't just rolling around in the bag willy-nilly. When I finally started to feel like myself again (after about a month), I got to go through the not-at-all embarrassing sperm testing. There is nothing like jerking off in a cup and delivering it to the hospital. The hot nurse could have at least offered to help collect the sample.
You know, as traumatic as the experience was... every time I see someone with a screaming baby or a toddler who is getting into everything and acting up, I thank the Lord I got it done. Let me tell you, the few days of pain and month of awkwardness was certainly worth avoiding the years of pain that another child would bring!
I HATE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN VASECTOMIES!!!
When I first went to the doctor to speak about getting a vasectomy, he strongly recommended against it. You see, I was 26 years old and he thought I was too young to make that decision. At the time I was married with 2 children and I DID NOT want any more! Just because he's catholic and believes that every sperm is sacred and he has 15 children, that doesn't mean we all want to be in that same boat. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids (most of the time). I just don't want any more. My doctor went as far as saying "What if one of your children dies?". My kids aren't fish! Getting a new one does not replace the one that is lost. So finally he agrees to set up an appointment with a specialist that will perform the butchery.
My first (and only) consultation with the doctor before the surgery was certainly not the most fun I've ever had. If I was turned on by old men with sandpaper hands, I might have needed a cigarette after the meeting. I figured that he would explain the procedure, give me some pamphlets and send me on my way... WRONGO! The doctor tells me upon entering his office to drop my pants and sit on the examination table.
Well... maybe I should've expected it, but I didn't. The doctor very nonchalantly, moves my penis out of the way and starts going to town. He was pulling on my tool bag like he was trying to start a stubborn lawnmower. It was like my sac was filled with McDonald's cheeseburgers and he was the Hamburgler. He stretched my nut sac out and squeezed it with his sandpaper-like hands (it felt like I was doing "Satin Nut-Sac"--for those of you who use Mary-Kay Satin Hands, imagine using the Satin Smoothie Hand Scrub -- used to be called buffing cream -- on your most sensitive areas... not good!) until he found the tubes that he planned on cutting. I really wasn't paying any attention to the doctor as he explained what the vasectomy procedure entailed as I was feeling a little like I was visiting with Karl Toft (Google him if you don't know who he is).
When the molestation finally ended, I went home with the pamphlets.
After a few weeks, I received the appointment date for the surgery. Oh Joy, Oh Bliss! I was having a vasectomy on my 27 birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!!!
When V-Day arrived, I went to the hospital with my wife and was greeted by the sight of about a dozen pale faced, terrified men waiting to be scarred for life. I guess they were going to set up an assembly line and put us through.
After filling out the paper-work, I stripped, put on the ever-so-fashionable Johnny Shirt, I took my place in line and waited... A while later, a nurse came over and offered me some valium, which I gratefully accepted. Shortly after taking the Valium, I began feeling really good. It was like floating on air. I was no longer nervous and the stress of V-Day seemed to fade into the clouds... That is, until they came to wheel me to the OR.
I have never wanted to run away as much as I did at that moment. I was wheeled into the operating room and saw 10 or 11 people (maybe it was a combination of my fear and the valium, but it seemed that there were 9 or 10 beautiful nurses and my buddy, Sandpaper-Hands), a huge light and lots of equipment.
Most people I know (at least since the now infamous Seinfeld episode) have heard of shrinkage. It is the process of the male genetalia shrinking to a small fraction of its normal size due to cold. What not everyone knows is... this can also happen due to nervousness. Now, on a normal day, I am no Ron Jeremy; So you can only imagine how I felt on that day. This turtle was so frightened that I almost turned female!
So the doctor starts, once again, pulling at my nuggets and the nurses gather around for the show. I have one rather hot nurse telling me how great I am doing. Yeah!!! I feel great! Once the doctor has finished stretching me like pizza dough, he coats me with cold iodine and pulls out the needles. For those of you who have never had a needle stuck in your coin purse, I don't recommend it. IT ISN'T FUN!!
Now I am laying there with my "manhood", as it were, exposed, coated in iodine, a room full of people clamouring around me, waiting for the freezing to take hold. When I dreamed of being in a room full of nurses with my pants down, this is damn sure not how I pictured it happening!
Next came the surgery... I don't know how most people feel about methods of figuring out whether or not the freezing has taken hold, but I am of the opinion that cutting and asking what side of the marble pouch is being cut as you do it is not the best of ways. What if it wasn't fully frozen?!? ... Luckily it was and the old man could complete the procedure. After what seemed like hours of pulling and tugging, the procedure was complete. I now had a date with a frozen bag of peas.
I spent the next couple of days moving as little as possible and hoping my huge, swollen walnuts would shrink back to their normal size. One thing that it seems no-one ever tells guys who get this procedure done is the difference in the way they hang afterward. It takes a while to get used to the boys hanging lower, but eventually you do. The main problem I had with the new feeling had to do with the detachment. I kept feeling like I no longer had a left or right. It felt as though they would switch places periodically (which of course they don't because they are still attached). They aren't just rolling around in the bag willy-nilly. When I finally started to feel like myself again (after about a month), I got to go through the not-at-all embarrassing sperm testing. There is nothing like jerking off in a cup and delivering it to the hospital. The hot nurse could have at least offered to help collect the sample.
You know, as traumatic as the experience was... every time I see someone with a screaming baby or a toddler who is getting into everything and acting up, I thank the Lord I got it done. Let me tell you, the few days of pain and month of awkwardness was certainly worth avoiding the years of pain that another child would bring!
Friday, March 02, 2007
I was in the downtown area yesterday in a federal government building. This information is important because in this building there is a phone that can be used for free for job searching (and only job searching purposes). While visiting this building, a young man (who looked like he hadn't showered in weeks) came in and picked up the phone. He proceeded to phone local churches and beg for money for him and his brother (who he said had different fathers to cover up the fact that they had different last names--he volunteered this information when asked on the phone for their names) to go to Ottawa to see 2 of his relatives who were children in a car accident and had 48 hours to live (convenient eh? Just long enough to beg for $$$ and get there, but not long enough for the church to really consider the request and realize that the guy was full of horse s#*t). He claimed that his WELFARE cheque (more of our tax dollars going to a good cause) was lost in the mail and he was too poor to afford the bus tickets. This, to me seemed like a rather far fetched story. The church on Smythe Street, however must have found it believable because they agreed to give ole' Pig Pen $80 to put toward his "trip" (although I am sure that the only trip he was going to take was when he tripped out on the drugs he planned on buying with the money).
The funny thing about this story is that this guy was not even a member of this church, they were offering him $80 and he kept on saying that it wasn't enough and "can you give us any more?". You might think that after the background I just gave you that I am about to blog about how much I hate beggars (which I do). You'd be wrong...
I HATE ENABLERS!!!
Merriam-Webster's Medical Dictionary defines an enabler as "one that enables another to achieve an end; especially : one who enables another to persist in self-destructive behavior (as substance abuse) by providing excuses or by helping that individual avoid the consequences of such behavior"
In truth the government is the biggest enabler. Unfortunately there are many people who are able to use loopholes in the welfare system to abuse it (or they simply lie to the government in order to get $$$). I suppose the government can't really be faulted for that given the number of people who are on welfare. But this really isn't about the government is it?
I can understand if a church rallies behind a member of their congregation who may have fallen on hard times. Someone they know and trust and isn't just trying to pilfer money from the coffers. But for this church (or any other) to take the word of this trailer park reject and to blindly give the money that the members of the church so kindly donated to a couple of guys who certainly seemed to me to be looking for a drug fix is inconceivable!
I cannot stand these bleeding hearts who believe that there are no throw-away people. Anyone who expects things to be handed to them on a silver platter and never expects to work for anything IS a throw away person. Maybe we should take America's suggestion, but rather than give them our poor, tired and huddled masses yearning to be free, we should give them our lazy, dirty and drugged out welfare f#$kheads yearning to live off the dime of anyone who won't make them work for it. While we are at it, perhaps we can send all those bleeding hearts who want to "save" them south as well.
Don't misunderstand me, I think the welfare system in Canada is very important. We should take care of people when they are down on their luck. But these people who CHOOSE to be down on their luck. These people who CHOOSE to use drugs or CHOOSE to not work or CHOOSE not to get the help they need. These people ARE throw-away people. They lie, cheat and steal their way through life. Sometimes they work harder at keeping up with their lies than they would ever have to work if they had a job.
So lets hook up all their trailers to a big truck and the bleeding hearts can tow them away to a better life. One where they can be drugged out and lazy and their saviours can wait on them like their mother. What a happy, dirty, drugged out, lazy community that would be, except for, of course, the saviours; Who would have to work their asses off to support these morons who are currently living off our tax dollar.
Halleluiah
The funny thing about this story is that this guy was not even a member of this church, they were offering him $80 and he kept on saying that it wasn't enough and "can you give us any more?". You might think that after the background I just gave you that I am about to blog about how much I hate beggars (which I do). You'd be wrong...
I HATE ENABLERS!!!
Merriam-Webster's Medical Dictionary defines an enabler as "one that enables another to achieve an end; especially : one who enables another to persist in self-destructive behavior (as substance abuse) by providing excuses or by helping that individual avoid the consequences of such behavior"
In truth the government is the biggest enabler. Unfortunately there are many people who are able to use loopholes in the welfare system to abuse it (or they simply lie to the government in order to get $$$). I suppose the government can't really be faulted for that given the number of people who are on welfare. But this really isn't about the government is it?
I can understand if a church rallies behind a member of their congregation who may have fallen on hard times. Someone they know and trust and isn't just trying to pilfer money from the coffers. But for this church (or any other) to take the word of this trailer park reject and to blindly give the money that the members of the church so kindly donated to a couple of guys who certainly seemed to me to be looking for a drug fix is inconceivable!
I cannot stand these bleeding hearts who believe that there are no throw-away people. Anyone who expects things to be handed to them on a silver platter and never expects to work for anything IS a throw away person. Maybe we should take America's suggestion, but rather than give them our poor, tired and huddled masses yearning to be free, we should give them our lazy, dirty and drugged out welfare f#$kheads yearning to live off the dime of anyone who won't make them work for it. While we are at it, perhaps we can send all those bleeding hearts who want to "save" them south as well.
Don't misunderstand me, I think the welfare system in Canada is very important. We should take care of people when they are down on their luck. But these people who CHOOSE to be down on their luck. These people who CHOOSE to use drugs or CHOOSE to not work or CHOOSE not to get the help they need. These people ARE throw-away people. They lie, cheat and steal their way through life. Sometimes they work harder at keeping up with their lies than they would ever have to work if they had a job.
So lets hook up all their trailers to a big truck and the bleeding hearts can tow them away to a better life. One where they can be drugged out and lazy and their saviours can wait on them like their mother. What a happy, dirty, drugged out, lazy community that would be, except for, of course, the saviours; Who would have to work their asses off to support these morons who are currently living off our tax dollar.
Halleluiah
Thursday, March 01, 2007
I HATE SCHOOL (and the idiots who work there)
I Know, we shouldn't paint everyone with the same brush, but Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with these idiots who work in the school system?
I know that there are some good teachers out there and I am sure there might be one or two good people on the Administration staff of a school somewhere in this world... But judging from my experiences at my children's school, these good people are few and far between. Two of my closest friends work in the public school system in this province and I know they are very good at what they do, so for those two people... I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU (well, maybe a little).
From top to bottom, our schools are going to hell. The teachers are unhappy, the children are unhappy and the parents are damn unhappy.
It seems like any control that the teachers once had is long gone. While some of the teachers (the good ones) do try to make things better, many just accept the status quo and let the madness continue.
What is this madness I speak of, you may ask? Well, the rules that the teachers and school staff in general have to follow have made it very difficult for the school to run smoothly. Perhaps I should explain some of these rules...
1. Teachers are not allowed, under any circumstances to enter the school change rooms/locker rooms, unless accompanied by another teacher or staff member. While on the surface, this seems like a good way to protect our children from exploitation, it also cripples the teaching staff's ability to supervise the students. I know of an instance where a child was beat up in the locker room at the school and the teacher could do nothing about it because he/she had to run to get another staff member to supervise his/her entering of the locker room to break up the fight. Because of this, one of the students had to be transported to the hospital. You might think that the school would allow teachers to use their best judgement and if there was a situation where someone was hurt, they could ignore the rule and help the student, but apparently the teachers aren't paid to use their judgement. Have we lost so much trust for our teaching staff that criminal background checks are not enough?
2. Children on the playground are not allowed to touch each other, throw snowballs (even if it is just at trees or throwing them into the woods), or do many of the things that we did when we were children. First of all, how can the children be children if we try to put them in a bubble and not allow them to do anything for fear that they might get hurt? How are the teachers supposed to keep these children from doing the things that children like to do? Maybe we should send a few rolls of duct tape with the kids' school supplies at the start of the year so that the children can be taped to their desks every day and that way they will be safe.
3. We ran into a situation a couple of years ago when our child never arrived home from school. He took the bus to a friend's house and we never knew where he was. The school's response was that it was the responsibility of every child that is in grades 1 to 5 to make sure they get on the right bus and get off at the right stop. So I guess that we have a little Lord of the Flies situation going on at this school (except, of course for at recess when the children aren't allowed to touch each other).
4. Janitors.... where can I start? I guess a janitor does not have to clean anything or do anything that is not specifically mentioned in his/her union contract. This does not apply to every one of them, but it seems like taking pride in your work and going above and beyond is not in the union contract so f#%k it! I guess that picking things they like out of the lost and found, however, is in their contract. I am sure it happens alot and it is not only the janitors who do it, but this year I had an occasion when my son came home without his brand new jacket. He said it wasn't in the lost and found, but he's young and I am sure he just looked at the top of the pile in the lost and found bin when he looked for it (if he looked at all). So I decided to go to the school and look for it myself. It wasn't in the lost and found. I searched the entire school with no luck. Finally, I walked to the end of a hallway that was well away from my son's classroom (not a place he would frequent), and I saw a piece of the sleeve of his jacket sticking out from under the janitor's jacket on a hook that most of the kids in the school would need a ladder to reach. I wonder how it got there?!?
5. Apparently there are some brilliant teachers who think that getting elementary school children to write down their homework is a great idea. So these children come home with a couple of words written in their homework book and the parents are expected to make sure that this homework gets done. I once wrote to a teacher asking for an explanation about homework and the response I received was "I explained the assignment clearly to the class". Hmmm.... I have completed 2 university degrees and I can tell you that a university prof can explain an assignment until they are blue in the face and the student will forget most of the explanation by the time he/she takes a piss; That is if the explanation is not written down. If a university student cannot retain this information, how can an elementary school student be expected to? And how is a parent supposed to help a child with an assignment if they don't have instructions? Maybe we can call JoJo of the Psychic Friends Network to help us read the mind of the teachers. It'll only cost us $4.99 per minute.
6. How about inclusion... Maybe this is not the most popular stance, but I think inclusion in the classroom sets up kids with special needs for many more problems than having special classes ever did. It is also distracting to the rest of the class to have some students with aides in the classroom, doing different work than the rest of the class. Some classes where inclusion is great in my opinion are Phys Ed (I am sure that there are many "non-special-needs" kids who could use an aide in this class), Art and maybe music. I really think that having anyone who is doing a significantly different (easier or harder) schooling program than the rest of the class is being set up to be teased and bullied.
7. Suspensions - I was recently told of a situation where a student in middle school was suspended from school for cutting classes. Who was the Einstein that came up with this idea. Isn't that like punishing a rapist by putting him/her (wouldn't want to be sexist) in a room with a bunch of sexy naked people and saying "you better have sex with those people"! Why don't we just punish a thief by giving him/her all of our bank account numbers and passwords! That'll learn 'em!!!
Seems to me that teaching our children in a clean , safe environment is no longer a priority. As long as the schools give the appearance of being politically correct and they don't get sued, they are content to let our children slip through the cracks.
F#@king Schools!!!
I Know, we shouldn't paint everyone with the same brush, but Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with these idiots who work in the school system?
I know that there are some good teachers out there and I am sure there might be one or two good people on the Administration staff of a school somewhere in this world... But judging from my experiences at my children's school, these good people are few and far between. Two of my closest friends work in the public school system in this province and I know they are very good at what they do, so for those two people... I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU (well, maybe a little).
From top to bottom, our schools are going to hell. The teachers are unhappy, the children are unhappy and the parents are damn unhappy.
It seems like any control that the teachers once had is long gone. While some of the teachers (the good ones) do try to make things better, many just accept the status quo and let the madness continue.
What is this madness I speak of, you may ask? Well, the rules that the teachers and school staff in general have to follow have made it very difficult for the school to run smoothly. Perhaps I should explain some of these rules...
1. Teachers are not allowed, under any circumstances to enter the school change rooms/locker rooms, unless accompanied by another teacher or staff member. While on the surface, this seems like a good way to protect our children from exploitation, it also cripples the teaching staff's ability to supervise the students. I know of an instance where a child was beat up in the locker room at the school and the teacher could do nothing about it because he/she had to run to get another staff member to supervise his/her entering of the locker room to break up the fight. Because of this, one of the students had to be transported to the hospital. You might think that the school would allow teachers to use their best judgement and if there was a situation where someone was hurt, they could ignore the rule and help the student, but apparently the teachers aren't paid to use their judgement. Have we lost so much trust for our teaching staff that criminal background checks are not enough?
2. Children on the playground are not allowed to touch each other, throw snowballs (even if it is just at trees or throwing them into the woods), or do many of the things that we did when we were children. First of all, how can the children be children if we try to put them in a bubble and not allow them to do anything for fear that they might get hurt? How are the teachers supposed to keep these children from doing the things that children like to do? Maybe we should send a few rolls of duct tape with the kids' school supplies at the start of the year so that the children can be taped to their desks every day and that way they will be safe.
3. We ran into a situation a couple of years ago when our child never arrived home from school. He took the bus to a friend's house and we never knew where he was. The school's response was that it was the responsibility of every child that is in grades 1 to 5 to make sure they get on the right bus and get off at the right stop. So I guess that we have a little Lord of the Flies situation going on at this school (except, of course for at recess when the children aren't allowed to touch each other).
4. Janitors.... where can I start? I guess a janitor does not have to clean anything or do anything that is not specifically mentioned in his/her union contract. This does not apply to every one of them, but it seems like taking pride in your work and going above and beyond is not in the union contract so f#%k it! I guess that picking things they like out of the lost and found, however, is in their contract. I am sure it happens alot and it is not only the janitors who do it, but this year I had an occasion when my son came home without his brand new jacket. He said it wasn't in the lost and found, but he's young and I am sure he just looked at the top of the pile in the lost and found bin when he looked for it (if he looked at all). So I decided to go to the school and look for it myself. It wasn't in the lost and found. I searched the entire school with no luck. Finally, I walked to the end of a hallway that was well away from my son's classroom (not a place he would frequent), and I saw a piece of the sleeve of his jacket sticking out from under the janitor's jacket on a hook that most of the kids in the school would need a ladder to reach. I wonder how it got there?!?
5. Apparently there are some brilliant teachers who think that getting elementary school children to write down their homework is a great idea. So these children come home with a couple of words written in their homework book and the parents are expected to make sure that this homework gets done. I once wrote to a teacher asking for an explanation about homework and the response I received was "I explained the assignment clearly to the class". Hmmm.... I have completed 2 university degrees and I can tell you that a university prof can explain an assignment until they are blue in the face and the student will forget most of the explanation by the time he/she takes a piss; That is if the explanation is not written down. If a university student cannot retain this information, how can an elementary school student be expected to? And how is a parent supposed to help a child with an assignment if they don't have instructions? Maybe we can call JoJo of the Psychic Friends Network to help us read the mind of the teachers. It'll only cost us $4.99 per minute.
6. How about inclusion... Maybe this is not the most popular stance, but I think inclusion in the classroom sets up kids with special needs for many more problems than having special classes ever did. It is also distracting to the rest of the class to have some students with aides in the classroom, doing different work than the rest of the class. Some classes where inclusion is great in my opinion are Phys Ed (I am sure that there are many "non-special-needs" kids who could use an aide in this class), Art and maybe music. I really think that having anyone who is doing a significantly different (easier or harder) schooling program than the rest of the class is being set up to be teased and bullied.
7. Suspensions - I was recently told of a situation where a student in middle school was suspended from school for cutting classes. Who was the Einstein that came up with this idea. Isn't that like punishing a rapist by putting him/her (wouldn't want to be sexist) in a room with a bunch of sexy naked people and saying "you better have sex with those people"! Why don't we just punish a thief by giving him/her all of our bank account numbers and passwords! That'll learn 'em!!!
Seems to me that teaching our children in a clean , safe environment is no longer a priority. As long as the schools give the appearance of being politically correct and they don't get sued, they are content to let our children slip through the cracks.
F#@king Schools!!!
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