Art for the Records

Christmas is in ten days, I’m pretty sure my inner child is running around naked somewhere in a field of daises.

"Same. What's your favorite part about this holiday?"

"Step 2: Also be as repulsive as possible and blabber the most ridiculous things ever."

"Step 3: Either look like Jesus or Mr Rogers. There's no in-between, or else you don't get the job."

"Yeah, especially mister Powell, that man has gone absolutely nuts."

"Ugh, that guy. He's been a teacher here since I've been alive. He threw chips at me one day when I put my head down. Hate him."

"Maybe it’s part of the how-to-be-a-science-teacher guide book."

"Step 1: Be as weird as possible. Don't hold back anything. Tell as many offensive jokes about babies as possible."

How can science not be weird and eeccentric?

"I don't know, but they need to calm down. One of them I've never had as  a teacher came up and sprayed me with a water bottle."

Maybe it’s in the job description?

It needs not to be. This one came up to me today and squirted me with a water bottle because I wasn't working on my work.

"I’ve been wondering the same thing."

"I think that’s just a requirement for being a science teacher. Kind of like how all art teachers have to be crazy and smoke weed."

"God, I just saw a freshman fall down face to the floor, hilarious!"

Eh, still shouldn’t be that way towards people. Never know what happened in their day.

That's kind of true, but say I bump into someone and say sorry and they reply back, "Yeah, you should be." I'm not going to be nice to them. I said sorry, now accept it and get on with your crappy day. 

  True, especially in this town. I don’t think anybody care who they’re treated.

Yeah, they really don't care. It's kind of a dog-eat-dog world here.