Revenge is Sweet

So there's this student teacher for Vase. We'll call him, Mr Krueger because he's either mean, or pyscotic or a mixture of both. But one thing everybody knows for sure is that he has to go. For real.

Lemme rewind. On Tuesday one of the girls in my class was talking to this boy who sits next to her about how she touched a bat because it was stuck in her pool. Mr Krueger caught them and said, "You two can flirt later." Not bad, that's something even Vase would say. But as the girl tried to explain Mr Krueger told her that you could get rabies from touching a bat, which we all should know is true. You're probably saying that Mr Krueger is just being a good Samaritan, right? Well, let me continue before you go judging. So, two days later (aka today, if you lost track) Mr Krueger is still calling the girl "Rabid" and "Rabies" AND telling the class not to talk to her. And no, he's not joking.

I've also heard in my social studies class that he's a bit of a perv, and called a student smart"butt" (hey, gotta keep it family friendly) multiple times. He also calls one student in my class Special Ed, when he's not. Well, Vase sometimes calls him that, but it's a special kind of funny when she does. Not like when Mr Krueger does it. He says it mean. Mr Krueger also onced asked a somewhat short girl what the average height of a midget is. Now does he seem like a good guy?

But as the saying goes, revenge is a dish best served cold. In social studies today, we passed around a piece of notebook paper and used it to write every mean or rude thing he's ever done to us. We are gonna turn it in either to the principal or the counselor. Either one works. Also the girl in my class who is called "Rabies" by Mr Krueger is going to record him saying every mean thing so we have actual proof that he is a psychopathic axe murder in his spare time.  Mr Krueger has got to go.

Cheese Face out.

Oh, and the Cheeseys are April 26. Vote now!

"Even Prisoners Can Eat Cookies!"

That was a quote from today. I was late to Vase's class again because of my siblings. And so she and the VP sent me to lunch detention. Horrible, that place is.

For lunch detention, you either go to the band hallway or the Quiet Room. The band hallway, I'm pretty sure, is a place where you and the other delinquents can share why you got lunch detention, but the Quiet Room is aptly named. The rules are this:

1. No talking
2. Work independently
3. No gum, food or candy (except food for lunch detention, only no snacks, unless you have cold lunch)
4. Stay in your seat
5. No sleeping

Gosh dang it to heck, they treat us worse than prisoners. I'm serious, prisoners can eat cookies and chew gum and can talk to their prison friends and sleep. What the chiz?!

And I tried to see what time it was and to do that I had to turn around to the back of the room and the teacher yelled at me. WTC?!

So that was my day.

On the plus side, I got super awesome Converse shoes/boots and I went all out Goth and sweetness. Only the jerks asked me if my choker was a dog collar and so I said, "No, it's a choker, smart one." I should have said, "No, it's a wall of psychic energy keeping me from killing the world," but the school is teaching suicide prevention and I don't want to deal with the crap that comes from being smarter than the prissies.

My Hatred Toward Many Things

It's National Hate Day in Cheesecakia. What's "National Hate Day," you ask? IT'S WHEN SASQUATCH AND TOOTH FAIRY GO TO THEIR SUMMER HOME IN PRAGUE AND SPREAD JOY TO ALL THE UNICORN-MAN-BEAR BABIES! Actually, I lied. There is no "hatred holiday". But someone should make a hatred holiday real. Won't that be EPIC! I think it would be.

But anyways, yay Emma! Yous was featured on a notable blog and that itself is AWESPIC! Yes, awespic, a combination of awesome and epic! Yay for neologism.

ANYWAYS! What I was going to talk about my hatred of many things and various people. So let's get started.

ITEM OF HATRED 1: Sports. Specifically sports that involve lots of moving and sweating. Like lacrosse. That's what we're doing in gym. It's soccer (or football to those European readers, maybe) with sticks with nets. It's stupid in my opinion.

ITEM OF HATRED 2: My heath/P.E. teacher, Mr. E. Not to be confused with Mister E, my social studies teacher, Mr. E. is mean. One of the girls in my class hurt her knee playing softball or something and can't participate. So when she gives Mr. E. the doctor's note saying she can't participate, he makes her do one of those action plans that are meant for people who don't change clothes. Really, you crazy, old fudgebag?!

ITEM OF HATRED 3: Mr. S. Mr. S is a crazy old man who I hate. A lot. He is the string and band teacher at my school and most everybody hates him. At the beginning of the year he's all nice and you start to think that he's a really awesome teacher but YOUR DEAD WRONG! Well, I guess if you're one of the lucky ones and he doesn't end up decapitating you with his old cymbals, you'd be right about him being awesome. But I'll always hate him. The crazy, old stubrag.

ITEM OF HATRED 4: Most people. Notice I said most. Meaning those awesome individuals who I associate myself with, aren't hated! I just don't like people.

ITEM OF HATRED 5: Some computers. More specifically, PCs. They crash, get viruses, and get the BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH. Macs on the other hand, don't do those things, unless you have the first ever Macintosh. I like macs.

ITEM OF HATRED 6: My science teacher, Mrs. Vase. I was ten seconds late to class today. And she made me stay after for ten minutes. I swear, she loves her gerbil, Flealick, more than teaching. That crazy, old bat.

And now, the first ever performance of The World Is NOT Awesome!

I hate the mountains.
I hate the clear blue skies.
I hate big bridges.
I hate when great whites fly.
I hate the whole world and
all it's sights and sounds.

Boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da,
boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da.

I hate the ocean.
I hate real dirty things.
I hate to go fast.
I hate Egyptian kings.
I hate the whole world
and all its craziness

Boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da,
boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da.

I hate tornadoes.
I hate arachnids.
I hate hot magma.
I hate the giant squid.
I hate the whole world.
It's not a brilliant place.

Boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da,
boom-de-ah-da, boom-de-ah-da.

The Lady who Eats CHILDREN

Today, I was 30 seconds late to my first period science class, which my teacher, Mrs. Vase, did not like. SHE EATS CHILDREN AND SPITS ON PUPPIES! OK, you probably want the deets.

My mom overslept today and I didn't hear my alarm so we were rushing to get to school on time, lest I risk staying after for Mrs. Vase. But, as usual, who is there to skew us off schedule? My sister, Mini Cheese Face. Or as I like to call her, Tiny Tim, cuz, for one, she's not tiny, and two, her name's not Tim. But she was arguing about her clothes with our mom, which took up at least 10 minutes. So when that was all said and done, Howie the Puppy pooped in my sisters' room and that took up 5 minutes of our gettin' out of the house time. So we get to school and I run to my locker as fast as I can, without getting in trouble at least, when the bell rings as soon as I get my locker open.
So I put my stuff inside, grab my notebooks, and run to Mrs. Vase's room, 30 seconds away. So I tell her what happened and she says, "That's not an excuse." Well, no duh! I wasn't making up some ridiculous story. You asked what happened and I told you. So she made me stay after school putting books away in some dusty, old storage room. I'm allergic to dust, and there was dust everywhere, so unless she wants partially sneezed on books...

But at the end I got some Starbursts. That's a plus, right?


Cheese Face out.