I Can't Make It On Time

Tuesday's time warp was delayed (again) as I did not have any idea of what to write. I thought you people understood I rely on your suggestions to get the ol' brain workin'. Apparently not. I still haven't gotten any, but I watched a video on HuffPo today that made me say "Fuck Time Warp Tuesday." It's about to get real.

A woman named Karen Huff Klein works as a school bus monitor in the city of Rochester, New York. She has lived there her whole life, about to attend her 50th high school reunion, has been widowed for 17 years and 10 years ago lost her son to suicide. She works as a bus monitor to ensure that the children aren't being harmed or bullied by each other or the bus driver. However, the unappreciative, disrespectful, asshole children that ride the bus are the bullies that she needed protection from. Here's the video:

WARNING: This video may make you want to beat the shit out of these little punk ass children.

If you couldn't keep watching, I understand. I wanted to cry for her. I wanted to give her a hug. I wanted to snatch the little bitch with the phone up and throw him out the damn window. Did you see the one who poked her with his yearbook? I'd press assault charges.

I'm not sure what is worse, what they said or that they filmed it and uploaded it. Obviously what was said to this woman was beyond awful, but these little bastards were so proud of what they did, they put it on the Internet. I'm sure one (or more) of them is delighting in how many hits it has gotten. I wish, that for every hit this video gets, the same amount of hits is given to these creatures of evil by their parents.

Speaking of parents, we all like to go straight to the righteous indignation and believe that our children would NEVER behave this way. These kids must have crack-whore, alchie, white-trash, ghetto, hoodlum, (pick your adjective) single mothers and absent father's to act like this. You know you thought it. More than likely, these kids come from a normal household with normal upbringings. Mommy and Daddy love one another and little Billy, Juan, or Jamal get lots of love and attention. You know what they don't get? Lessons in respect and ass-whoppings.

Like most American children in the upper-levels of elementary school and middle school, they know there is not a god damn thing that teachers, bus drivers, and in this case, school bus monitors can do to them. Teachers can't hit them, can't take their cell phones, can't correct them even without a parent contacting the authorities. "Oh my baby is being harassed!" Why? Because a teacher told him to sit his fat ass down and pay attention?

There is a black teenage girl (yes, her race matters) in California that reported to the police that her teacher slapped her several times across the face because she didn't bring her required notebook, pen/pencil, and books to class (which she showed up late for). The NAACP (see, told you race was relevant) is calling for the teacher to be fired and sued and probably burned at the stake because this was "clearly a racially motivated incident." The girl is also suing the school for $1,010,000 for pain and psychological damages. The school conducted an investigation and found the teacher only "patted" the girl and students that were present have backed up the teacher. But let's sue anyway. The teacher, who is Hispanic, has apologized but that isn't good enough. A million bucks will make it good enough.

I'm not saying that hitting a student is okay, but what's the back story? There are reports that the girl is always tardy, never brings her homework, has a bad attitude and is very disrespectful to the teacher and other students. The school is standing behind the teacher and students of all races are backing her as well. There are reports out of Malibu (where the school is) that the girl has recanted her story after investigators started doubting it. Nothing official yet, but look how quickly this story spread? Can't find a retraction but you can find the initial reports. And that's what these kids see. If they don't get their way, if someone has the audacity to correct them, they'll just lie about them. Who cares if you destroy an adults reputation when they did nothing wrong? What message are her parents sending her by pursuing a lawsuit?

Back to the kids in the Karen Huff Klein case, are they going to sue next? I'm sure there is a lawyer who'd take that case somewhere. "My client was saying those vile things because he was in fear that Ms. Klein was actually going to sweat on him." Next thing you know, the kids will be demanding apologies from the district and Ms. Klein because of the emotional trauma they feel by being outed as assholes. The police are even being called to post guards at the homes of the children because they claim to fear for their safety. Seriously. You should fear for your safety....from your parents! They should beat that ass until it's black and blue. But no, these kids are the victims now. Poor, poor kids that were just expressing themselves.

Karen gave an interview where she (because she's a good person) defended the kids. "They weren't that bad all year. They just had one day. I don't know what possessed them. I hope that this might help other people, that's what I really hope. To go though all this for nothing would not be satisfactory." These four boys (their names are in the comments) relentlessly attacked a woman old enough to be their grandmother and even after seeing her cry, KEPT GOING. How do you pick on a woman that is still trying to find the good in your pathetic ass?! How?! 


If those are the names of the boys, they should be shared. Make. Them. Famous. Let everyone know that they are cruel and pathetic and deserve to be humiliated and shamed. And fuck an apology, I highly doubt it would be sincere anyway. 


Before anyone gets all uppity in the comments, I am fully aware of the bullying the bully philosophy I seem to be supporting. I am also aware that I could also be labeled a bully for my Thursday Thrashings. There is no justification for what I write. I'm old and grown enough that I don't have to supply one. I'm honest and truthful about what goes down in class. If any of these people ever read it and said "Hey, that sounds a lot like me," I would smile politely and ask what their point was. No one gets a blog reference without provocation, something that cannot be said for the attack on Ms. Klein. And if you really think I'm such a bully, why the hell are you reading this anyway? 


These boys in New York should be banned from riding the bus. Permanently. Let the parent's worry about how to get them to school. I bet when Mommy and Daddy start being inconvenienced by the dropping off and picking up, the kids will feel it to. No more iPhone to upload mean videos. No more TV and XBOX and hanging out with friends. Make them work for redemption. Start with Ms. Klein's yard. I'm sure she could use some help. And isn't what they did a hate crime? They reference her weight and age, so charge the punks. The girl in Malibu should be charged with filing a false police report. Let's see how that looks on a college application. Teach our children that there are consequences for bad behavior. 

I'm done for today. Anger makes me hive out.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Baseball, without an ounce of doubt, is America's past time. I care not that basketball and football get higher ratings, nor will I admit that the steroid scandal has damaged the games reputation. Sure, when Barry Bonds was accused (fuck it he's guilty) of using them, I stopped being a Giants fan. A team that I had loved since as far back as I can remember had a fucking cheater and it killed me. It was one thing for other teams to have their Mcgwire's and Sammy Sosa's, but not my Giants. It wasn't until recently, maybe 4 or 5 years ago that I began to enjoy the game again and LOVE the Giants. Before the World Series win, mind you. My baby sis was and is a bit of a baseball nut. Just listening to her go on and on about stats and records and mostly the Giants renewed my love of the game. Brian Wilson's beard also helped, have you seen it? He's pure awesome. James Harden of the Thunder can only aspire to this amount of greatness.

So with this renewed love of the game, and a husband who played it for years, we enrolled Little Bug in T-Ball. Soccer was pure chaos, all they did was run aimlessly and get a lucky goal, but T-Ball would be different. She would have to focus and hopefully, with the right coach, love the game. Unfortunately, we will never know about the right coach part because Hubby and I were the only parents who were willing to coach.

We're a few weeks into the 11-week season right now. It's hot as hell in the Sun City and windy to boot. The fields are this red/orange-dirt that covers everything and anything. And the kids, well, the kids are 4 and 5 years old. Anyone who has ever met a 4 or 5 year old knows that they can't remember to wipe their ass, have the patience of a full bladder, and the attention span of Snookie. Well, probably a bit better than Snookie. It's been challenging, to say the least, but they have made INCREDIBLE progress.

Little Bug still prefers to play with the dirt than pay attention. She still thinks Mommy and Daddy should drop everything to pay attention to her. Oh, and she is one-half of our terrible twosome. Her and this blond haired blue eyed boy have been drawn together like magnets since the first day. They quote Adventure Time, finish each other's sentences, laugh at the silly faces they make, and his mother says she has to write this in a memory book because it's his first case of puppy love. It's cute, really, but I want to separate them just so I can get them to listen.

We had a buy last week and practice wasn't great. It was almost 104 that day and even though we didn't practice until 7pm, they were just miserable. Couldn't pay attention to save their lives. I held out no hope for a good game today. It has been stormy here and I prayed for our game to be rained out, but no such luck. We were at the field with plenty of time before the start of our game and Little Bug sat in the bleachers playing with the other kids. We talked with the photographer the rec center cleared about our team pics, went over the roster one more time to make sure we had a good batting order, and as the kids started to arrive, I already saw it their faces. It was hot and I could go fuck myself.

To make matters worse, our game started 15 mins later than it was supposed to. The other teams that were playing went over their time limit because they wanted a second inning. T-Ball rules are really simple: don't let them kill each other and as long as every kid hits once, you're good to go. No one is keeping score (I am), there are no outs, who cares how many at-bats your kids has? Gotta make sure they get bat time in front of all the scouts? By the time we start, I've already lost any energy required to wrangle them. Whatever, they'll suck but at least they'll have fun. Oh, and we only had 8 out of our 12. So at least batting would be quick right?

We took the field first. Just getting them to stand in the right place is a challenge and today was even worse. I told one kid to go to first and he said "Where's first?" Because you've never stood at it or played it before right? He spent the whole game whining that his leg hurt. Maybe if you didn't dive for every ball (even though there was never a need to) your legs wouldn't hurt. His dad came out on the field and tried to correct him, but he's that kid. The one who has an injury or has to pee or has dirt in his eye or needs his mom, anything to avoid actually playing. Between him and Little Bug dancing in the outfield, I was exhausted. Hubby just gave up and stopped trying to correct. I should have too.

OH! Before I mess up the timeline, after the first 4 at-bats, one of the rec center staffers brings out one of our team members. This kid got dropped off (late) by his dad, but to the wrong field. The dad just took off. What's worse is the kid didn't even have the situational awareness to realize that it was the wrong red team and tried to bat for them. The team was 6/7 year olds and the coach was great. He made sure the staffer knew that the kid was just dropped off, no parent and told him that it looked like he belonged on our field. This kid doesn't really talk, but won't talk at all to adults, or even turn his head in acknowledgement that you are speaking to him. He cries because his glove is on the wrong hand but when you tell him to switch it, he won't. Telling him to pay attention is a waste of time because it's like he goes out of his way to get hit by the ball. His father is a jackass that all the other parents hate and a small part of me thinks he may be abusive. His dad didn't show up until the end of the game. I made sure we reported it to the rec center director because of the no drop off policy and I also mentioned the dad and his rage issues. I confided in them my abuse suspicions as well, and they assured me that they would pass it along to CPS. No child is that fearful of adults without a good reason to be.

BUT that was not the most eventful part of the game. During our first at-bat, we were rather slow in getting the kids up to the plate. Quite frankly, I was the only person in the dugout and I was more concerned with getting water in them than how quickly they got on deck. Hubby was at the plate with them, another dad in the practice box and I was trying to put on helmets, take off their gloves (and assure them they'd get them back), prevent the fist fight that was brewing between two of the boys, and keep their water in their cups or mouths and not their clothing. We did pretty well, considering, but not well enough for the third base coach of the other team. 

He was old and obviously a grandpa, and apparently, our speed enraged him. He yelled out "Come on batter, get it movin', get it movin'." I was trying to get the possibly abused child up and he froze immediately. I assured him he was okay and the old man kept it up. "Get up there, we ain't got all day!" I looked right at him and said "Stop, please. They are 4 and 5 years old." He didn't listen, just got louder. "Knock it off," I added. "They're little kids. You need to be quiet." When he started up again, because how dare a woman tell him anything, the dad helping in the practice box raised the bat in his hand and said "SIR! Knock. It. Off." The dad's size and stern voice did it. Got the attention of the umpire as well and he kicked him off the field. After the game, he came into our dugout and tried to shake my hand, but since they were full, felt the need to pat me on the back. He said "It's cool coach." His pat was more of a full-on slap and I winced. I said "It's not cool. You don't yell at children, especially the ones on my team. And you don't need to touch me." He stepped back, aghast, but then walked the fuck away. I am against elderly abuse, but ol' dude needed an ass whoopin'. If he had said anything else, I probably would have knocked his ass out. He just screamed mean ass old man. I hate mean ass old men.

Any who, the kids got ice-cream after the game and all seemed well. The worst kids from week one were the best behaved today. Little Bug has further affirmed that she'll be a drama/music kind of gal, and that's okay. And I get to drink booze and eat chocolate with my gals tonight. All in all, not a horrible day.

Not On The Test

I was running a bit late tonight and was not the first one to class. Mexican Snookie and Clown Face were here before me, studying. Yes, studying. You see, tonight we have an exam on the first three classes' material. We were given all the power point slides during week one so we can study them in preparation for the exam, but apparently, they didn't know until tonight that the exam is going to cover what was in the power points. Even though it was explained to them several times, they said they didn't know. Even though I personally explained it to Clown Face, they didn't know. So here they sit, speaking in Spanglish LOUDLY about the difference between a search warrant and the Supreme Court. They are actually debating if the Supreme Court gets the search warrants or issues them and if the Supreme Court is only for Texas.

Clown Face: The police get the evidence from the Supreme Court.
Mexican Snookie: Yeah but that's just for Texas. That Evans guy had the porn that they searched and the Supreme Court told them to keep it for Texas.
CF: Oh si, that's right.

No, no it's not right. Not at all. They went on and on and three minutes before class I snapped.

Me: Seriously, you're doing too much. It's not a hard test. If you even remotely looked it over the slides, you'll be fine.
CF: Oh you think?
Me: You're going to psych yourself out. (Looking up at I-USA) No offense, but it's pretty easy.
CF: Oh I didn't take offense.

I would hope not, I was talking to him, not you. She giggled at him and said "You'll go easy on me 'cause I'm easy on the eyes, right?" He walked out of the classroom to pretend to take a call. I know it was pretend because he winked at Juarez Teenager Female and I as he did it.

Right now, he's reading us jokes from Larry the Cable Guy. No one, well no one beside Clown Face, is laughing. He keeps looking at Stoner White Boy Cop and I like we are supposed to laugh, presumably because we're white. Well, guess what buddy? I'm not going to laugh, mostly because it isn't funny, but a tiny portion is because you can see the hurt in his face when we don't. He just gave us our week one performance rewards and Stoner White Boy Cop and I won. He gave us pens. I guess I can't complain, I left mine at home today.

Ten after the hour and we have finally started. I'm staring at Judge Dread on the screen and he's babbling about efficient cops. Since week one, Judge Dread has been on four, maybe five slides. Someone loves him some Stallone. He brought up informants and said "Snitches are an important part of the federal system, and the state system." Do you know how hard it was to not say that snitches get stitches. I had to fight to not go for the quick laugh.

Carlos Brown, SWBC's friend just walked in wearing ANOTHER striped polo, buttoned all the way to the top. His posture is killin' me. He scoots his chair as far as he can to the table and then slouches down. All I can see is head, shoulders and neck. Oh, and his hairy ass forearms and hands. He twitches a little bit, more of a junkie twitch than a palsy twitch. I'm not quite sure why I find him so fascinating, but he is. He's chewing gum and the whole right side of his head bulges out when he does. It's like Alien, but in his head. I feel like I've seen him before, perhaps on a Gangland episode.

We've started on Tennessee v. Garner and everyone has an opinion. It is the case from 1985 in which the Supreme Court ruled that you couldn't use deadly force on felony suspects that were not complying with commands. You could fuck 'em up if they are an immediate threat but Fat Alberto said "Oh cause like the book said if a robber is leaving your home you could shoot them." No Bro, just no. Home invasion and a police officer using deadly force are not the same things. Catch up. I wanted to ask what the pre-conditions for deadly force were and then answer before anyone else could, but I'm at the point where I don't need to show off, I did win a pen after all.

I pretty much zoned out for the last 10 min or so. I watched the final out of Matt Cain's perfect game (GO GIANTS1) and only came to just now when I smelled the oh-too-noticeable fart smell that wafted my direction. My money is on Fat Alberto. I-USA just isn't providing any gems tonight. I want to shake him and say his dullness is killin' my flow. He hasn't even graded out papers from last week yet. Maybe he had a bad date this week and is too depressed to attempt humor. He is combing his hair to the left now instead of straight back. Oooh, maybe it wasn't a bad date, but a good one. He's been gettin' some so his class doesn't matter anymore. Whatever it is, I'm baiting him with leading questions that should spark debate and he's not biting.

I did just inform the Hispanics in the room that they are not Mexican unless they are actually from Mexico and you should have seen the outrage conveyed on their faces. Classic. I'm right and now you're entire identity is called into question. Nationality and race are not the same thing people. I win. I guess I shouldn't brag about that, it's quite sad that they never knew that. I-USA told them that white people can be Mexican and I thought I saw a tear roll down Blob Zombies cheek.

We're on break and Hipster Gordo is stuffing his gob with vending machine snacks and Dr. Pepper. He doesn't have a neck. No exaggeration, he's got a chi-neck. It's making my neck feel creepy. I keep touching it to make sure it's still there.

Just took the test and I got 38/40. And it was the two questions I changed even though I knew they were originally right. God damn it. I shouldn't be upset, I still got the highest grade but I'm disappointed in myself. I-USA said to the class that if you got less than 30, then you need to study more. I laughed and Katniss said "How do you get less than thirty? Wow." and I saw Juarez Teenager Females test. It said 29/40. Whoops. Oh and we got to grade our own tests. Every time I-USA would say an answer you would hear a "YES!" or "NO!" in what was intended to be a whisper but was anything but. I thought Katniss was gonna cut somebody. "Seriously?!" she said. "We're gonna go all first grade and do this with every answer?!" I almost died. But the other side of the room did, in fact, do it with every answer. I'm not saying that one should cheat, but as I am certain of their level of integrity, you'd have thought they would have gotten higher scores. What was even better was when they asked what their grade was. Um, you graded your own test, how could you not know?

Mexican Snookie and I-USA just made a joke about serial rapists, because apparently, rape is funny. No people, it's not. Only if the serial rapist is a clown. We've moved on but I'm now ready to pounce. When I-USA mentioned Atticus Finch, Mexican Snookie said "Who?" I-USA and I said "From To Kill a Mockingbird" and she still looked confused as fuck. She tried to play it off but I am now fully aware that Mexican Snookie cannot read. And I discovered that her real name is that of the local mall. Seriously. Those of you who live in Sun City will get that and LOL real world.

We're sort of going over next week's lesson and we've been promised that we get to contiue our not Nazi movie. Oh joy. Let's watch an Asian documentarian's flick about Juarez. BTW according to the flick, I should just kill myself because it is all the white man/America's fault. I cannot wait for the gasps and gagging sounds that are sure to happen when the camera man zooms in on blood on the floor or a body covered in a sheet. Seriously, that shocks you? We see that shit every damn day in movies and TV. You care that an average of 8 people are killed a day in Juarez, but don't bat an eye when someone mentions a soldier dying or another bullied teen committing suicide, even when it happens in OUR town. I intend to keep up my RiffTrax-esque commentary the entire time.

I'm going to end this now so I can pack my stuff up. I have considered writing an op-ed on this "film" and turning it in to I-USA, if I do, it'll post it on here for all of my lovelies.