sixth grade teacher: "the school has decided that my terminal brain cancer is effecting my
work performance"
entire class: *flashes back to when said teacher threw a football at the girls bathroom window*
entire class: *flashes back to when said <
history> teacher marked out our imaginary countries
fake land with neon duck tape all over the walls and ceiling and chairs and desks, and if we accidentally stepped on each others
fake land, we were forced to go to rock paper scissors
war*
sixth grade teacher: "so i regret to do this, but i am being let go and filing for unemployment"
me: *starts taping my nostrils upward to my forehead*
sixth grade teacher: "hopefully if this condition can be treated or terminated, i will return back to
work at this school, but for now me and my girlfriend have decided that whats best is for me to get admitted to the cleveland clinic and begin treatment"
me: *turns around to my sixth grade friend with my nostrils still taped to my forehead so i look like a pig* "beep
boop"
friend: "starts maniacally laughing so hard she cries"
every other
person in the room: *gives her a disgusted look*
me: *ducks my head and rips the tape off my
face*
in conclusion, i am in 9th grade
now and all i can say is: r.i.p Mr. Gerace.
