Gone Bad

I was thinking about people that need to get off this planet. Sometimes I move my ex, the second one on this list and sometimes I take him off. My first ex is permanently stationed on the list, near the top most days. My second ex, redeems himself only because he did some weirdness that might be construed as humorous. He was working construction in some podunk place in the South. He and some of his buddies found a dog that had been hit on the road. It had rigor mortis and a bloated belly. They took the dog and put it in the driver seat of their foreman’s pickup truck with its back pressed into the seat back, and its stiff arms on the steering wheel like it was driving.

Then I was thinking about this today too. I called in a bomb scare at my high school, not the second high school I went to but the first. This was way before 9/11 and cell phones. I went to the pay phone right next to the office and called the office. I said something clever like, “There’s a bomb in the school” and I used the deepest voice I could muster. It stopped classes for a few hours while they poked around. Mainly, I just could not take another second of that dumb ass place and wanted to stand on the lawn for a while, so we all did. It was not the first bomb scare, nor the last, but probably the only one called in on their own pay phone. It was certainly the only one I did. I think the police came to speak to us after that about scaring people to death and the penitentiary penalty for that. I wasn’t into “If you do the crime, do the time.” I was just into do the crime and do the crime.

While I was thinking about my first high school, I thought about Judy Moore. I was five feet, 100 pounds with brown hair whereas Judy was over six feet tall with a mane of red hair. When Mr. Pavia, our Spanish teacher, went into his closet to get supplies, she would slam the door shut and lean on it the whole class period, so he couldn’t get out. Pavia wanted to report her, but Pavia’s Spanish class was first period, and he didn’t show up sometimes because he was either too drunk the night before or out catting around with someone named Clemencia. He got to where he would yell before he went into the supply closet, “Judy, do not shut me in here,” but she did anyway.

And here’s a word of advice. Sn@pple ice tea will keep you awake until all hours of the night. I tangled with that beverage at the taqueria this afternoon, and I’m still bug eyed at 2am. 


12 Responses to “Gone Bad”

  1. Had to laugh about this post. Funny stuff. I can’t compete with your bomb scare. I did get kicked out of school until I got my hair cut. It was in the 60s and the Bettles and Stones had long hair, why couldn’t I. I took a dead baby shark wrapped up in paper and set it on my English teachers desk. My brother brought it home from fishing in the bay and I thought that would be funny. The teacher had a good sense of humor and lauighed it off. Those were fun days.

  2. Oh what a little rascal you were in the first high school. Did you ever pull anything like that in the second high school … and didn’t tell me????? lol

  3. I laughed my butt off at the shark tale. What did the teacher say when he say it? Do you remember? The hair thing wasn’t so much an issue for me but I got detention from not having my dress long enough. You know, the era of the mini skirt.

    LOL, Connie. You were in with my on most of the hijinks. Remember that time was stuffed a bunch of beer cans in the school’s mailbox and then stood out there and kicked it shut. AND some of the beer we had been drinking which was a double sin because we would get kicked out of our high school if we got caught. Then the next day, I suppose the mailman didn’t deliver the mail or something. I don’t know what happened. We really nailed on that hummer with out feet, kung fu style. Ms. West, oblivious to what had gone on, tried to get the mail and couldn’t open the door. I was watching her out the French teacher’s classroom door. I can’t remember that asshole’s name. She tottered out to the mailbox and back. We thought that was so funny. Actually, I still think it’s funny.

  4. I don’t remember what he said. He was a cool teacher. About once a month he would lock the door and the class would have a paper ball fight with him. He get behind his desk and through the crushed balls of paper at us and we’d throw them back. A good way to let off steam.

  5. It was a great way to let off steam. He was a rare find.

  6. He should have been He’d. Through should have been throw. I did get it right the second time. I know you understand, but I kick my self in the butt when I don’t read what I type.

  7. Wow, you were a revolutionary in high school! I on the other hand I was not, remember that mousy girl in high school, the one nobody talked to, the one that had a strange little skip in her step, nobody could figure out if she had plantar warts or if she was born with one leg shorter than the other, the girl that nobody ate lunch with, the one that always chose the seat way in the back of class to try to avoid being called upon to answer a question, the girl that never joined any clubs, never went to school dances, walked to school rather than ride the bus so she wouldn’t have to put up with the relentless teasing, the little girl that even teachers picked on because they knew she wouldn’t complain to her parents about unfair treatment, will I was the girl standing right behind her trying to soak up some of her bravado. 😈

  8. Don’t kick yourself in the butt. My vision is shot so my brain fills in what it thinks it is seeing. I didn’t even notice the typos until you pointed them out.

  9. Oh yeah, that Snapple tea high you were on, I had the same thing happen to me with Pepsi, significant other and I stopped for a late taco lunch one day and I had a huge Pepsi (plus a refill) and I didn’t go to sleep at all that night. To think some people have to buy elicit drugs to pull an all nighter and all you and I have to do is chug-a-lug a Pepsi or a Snapple! Who knew?

  10. Dang AZ. I was that girl in grammar school. In fact, I was a regular punching bag for the kids, particularly some low class bitch named Evalina. She was a trip. Supposedly she is a litigation attorney now. WOW! I know what that feels like. Not good. Something happened in high school – nervous breakdown or I felt like it couldn’t get any worse. I started acting an ass, a solo ass, nevertheless an ass. And then I switched schools and everything changed. It’s amazing how similar our lives have been. Funny, how we never crossed paths until now. The intraweb. Gawd bless it.

    All we need is Sn@pple and Pepsi to pull all nighters. Who would have known. I find now if I eat a cheeseburger around 4pm I become unconscious by 4:30. Does that happen to you? Are we getting old? Does Pepsi equal uppers and cheeseburgers are downers?

  11. A cheeseburger and pepsi sound good. I’d eat and drink and fall asleep.

  12. The Big Guy makes a mean cheeseburger on his grill. None better in fact. Some days I dream of his burgers.

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