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Introduction to The Tard Blog:


This is a weblog written by a real life special education teacher


It is updated on a irregular basis, because school is currently out.


And before you write us pissed off about this site, please educate yourself by reading the FAQ and Disclaimer. Most of your concerns are answered there.


If you want to read a blog about a masters degree in special education or a information assurance degree, I'm sure there are plenty of those out there if that's your preference.

--Brody Voss


#15: Malcolm's annoying chair

I was supervising a few students during their individual play time, when I heard the ear-piercing roar of our fire alarm. I immediately assumed my typical position next to the door, making sure the tards make it outside, while my aides herded them towards me.


Malcolm decided he doesn't want to go outside. The aide assisting Malcolm starts pushing him towards the door, and he immediately slams his chair into reverse. She pushes harder, the motor starts making a loud buzzing sound, and the room smells faintly of burnt oil.

I step forward and move Malcolm's finger off of the control, after this he starts rolling towards the door. The second I turn around to
check on the other tards he hits reverse again. Hearing that load motor buzz, I swing around and grab the side of Malcolm's chair, sliding his arm off the side and into his lap, making it impossible for him to hit his finger control. The aide then pushed him out the door.

Once we were outside and lined up, I put Malcolm's arm back on the side of his chair. Malcolm immediately started flying back towards the room. I grabbed his chair and held him in place, while the motor made that nice buzzing sound. Now all the teachers and their classes are staring at me holding this wheelchair tard in place while his chair is making the most horrendous buzzing sound ever.


I finally got fed up. In the hopes that he would drain his battery, I put on the manual breaks and walked back over to our classes line. Malcolm must have sat there buzzing for a good ten minutes. Finally after all the other classes went back, including ours, I took off his brakes and allowed him back into the building.


I still don't know why Malcolm wanted to be in the building so much.

#16: Joe's Assignment

In the front of my class I have a bin for submitted assignments. At the end of the day I'll go through it. Occasionally someone submits some work that's worth grading, usually however I just find spit balls, used tissues, chewed pencils, sheets of paper with curse words all over them, or someone's book. Today I was particularly bad, and I was basically dumping the bin into the garbage, when I came across Joe's submission.

Joe had taken a piece of paper, folded it in eight, as we usually do for math problems. Then instead of just using the eight rectangles for the problems, he cut each one out and made a stack of papers. He stapled the stack together, and submitted his work that way. This amazes me for several reasons:


-First of all the papers were cut, not ripped, this means he had to have access to a pair of scissors.

-Second the cuts were actually straight, very unlike Joe.

-Third, he had access to a stapler to put it together.

Despite this amazing effort, he didn't actually do any of the problems. Apparently after all that hard work making the booklet he didn't feel like putting anything in it.

#17: Kunte still likes the bathroom:

Today Kunte asked me if he could use the bathroom. Since he hadn't already used all his bathroom visits, I let him. Once again, he spent a good 15 minutes in there, but I didn't hear any flushing or gurgling sounds. I knocked on the door and didn't get any response. Finally I opened the door to see what was going on.

Kunte was laying face down in the middle of the bathroom with his eyes closed. Immediately fearing the worst I rushed over to him to see if he was alive. As soon as I sat next to him and started looking for vital signs he sits up and looks at me. In a frantic voice, I asked him if he was alright, if anything was wrong. He smiled and said,


"No I was just sleeping."

"Sleeping?!?", I inquired, "If you needed to take a nap you could have asked to go to the nurse, why are you sleeping
in the bathroom".

"Because the tile is cool."

#18: Supermarket serves fresh tard:

I was going through the supermarket around 12:00AM last night. I usually shop late at night, as there is less of a chance of bumping into anyone I know. I was going through frozen food section, when I see one of my tards on the other side of the freezer glass, mashed in between packages of frozen corn and peas. He was smiling and fogging up the window while beating on the glass and saying "Miss Hammon!" over and over. 


I'm think to myself, "What a fucked up supermarket--they serve frozen tard."

After that I thought, "Were the hell are his parents?". I was relieved to find that it was one of the push open kinds of freezer doors as he let himself out and walked over to me. I told him what he was doing is very dangerous and he could suffocate. This agitated him, and he consequently told me I was a cunt and that he thought I would like the surprise. He then spit on the floor and walked away.

I never found out if he was with his parents or not.

#19: Joe's Pencil:

Needless to say, that tard room I work in doesn't have a pencil sharpener. I have one that suction cups to my desk that I keep in a locked drawer. Whenever I need to sharpen a pencil, I take it out, clamp it down, and sharpen away. Today I got the sharpener out for Antonio's pencil. I figured while I have it out I might as well ask if any of the other tards need their pencils sharpened. I make this announcement, and Joe immediately wedges his head under his desk and starts crying.

This doesn't surprise me. Joe usually acts this way whenever he has done something wrong. I walk over to him and ask him what the problem is.


"Nothin'" he replies.


I go back to my desk to begin sharpening tard pencils. Most of the tards come up, including Joe. One by one they hand me their pencils and I sharpen them. Joe steps up and hands me a magic marker.

I manage to explain to Joe that it isn't a pencil, and you don't need to sharpen it. Joe insists that it is a pencil and that I have to sharpen it. I'm about to explain for a second time, when Joe grabs the marker and shoves it in the pencil sharpener. He starts cranking the poor thing like crazy and the marker begins bleeding all over the desk. By the time I pulled Joe away from the sharpener he had mauled the marker down to a one inch stub.

I made Joe sit down and write an apology, with a pencil that I provided. In his apology Joe wrote about how he had lost his pencil and he thought I would be angry, so he brought up a marker. He wrote that he thought he could trick me, and he is sorry.



#20: The Tard Crusher:

It’s surprisingly difficult for most of my students to really injure themselves. Most of them don’t have the manual dexterity to open their crayon boxes, never the less stab themselves with giant tard pencils. The majority of injuries are caused by inanimate objects that the tards tend to fall on, the edge of a cabinet, the floor, a table leg, etc. It’s for this reason that I try to keep furniture in my room well spaced out. This tends to make things safe and wheelchair accessible.

There is one piece of furniture however, that no matter where I put it it is unsafe. I like to call this beast, “The Tard Crusher”. It is a giant, green, five-drawer filing cabinet that must be from the early 19th century. The edges are sharp, the thing weighs a ton, it always teeters and rocks as if it is about to fall, and best of all, the non-locking drawers slide open easily and slam closed even easier. Why do I have this archaic tard mutilation device you ask? Well it’s the only fucking filing cabinet the school will give me. I have to keep all my records somewhere, and despite numerous requests they simply won’t give me another filing cabinet.

Just to give you and idea of how much I hate this piece of shit. Let me tell you some of the things it has done to my students and me:

1. The first day I got it, one of the drawers slammed shut on my finger as I was putting the files in. We’re not talking about any little bruise or tiny cut either, I bleed for a good couple of minutes, before the butterfly bandage the nurse gave me even helped.

2. A while ago, Jason ran into the cabinet full speed and fell flat on his back. I don’t consider this the cabinet’s fault, as Jason is a dumb shit and that’s what he gets for running around the classroom, but then the bottom drawer slid open and clocked the poor kid in the head while he was lying on the ground in front of it. It was almost as if the drawer was consciously punishing him.

3. The class used to have a fish bowl on top of the cabinet with African claw frogs in it. One time, one of the cabinet legs bent in and the fish bowl fell on the floor. It took me most of that morning to calm down the tards.

4. A strap to one of Malcolm’s cushions got caught on the sharp edge of a partially opened drawer. Malcolm flipped out and started trying to get away as fast as his chair could carry him. The cabinet began to tip towards him, but luckily one of my aids grabbed the cabinet before it could topple onto him. The cushion from his chair was torn out, but Malcolm lived.

#21: New computer isn’t “Tard-proof”:

The administration of my school in their infinite wisdom decided it would be a good idea to give our classroom a new computer.


Never mind the fact that we have a filing cabinet that is older than any of the  staff, and has a history of trying to kill my students. They decided not to replace that, but instead replace our perfectly functional computer. If I sound bitter, it’s because I am, but the administration soon learned the error of their ways.

Our classroom originally had an Apple IIe computer. The tards were allowed computer time as a reward for doing something correctly, i.e.. going a full day without swearing, not hitting anyone for a week, not shitting their pants, etc.


This computer was very simple to use. The aids put a game disk in the drive and turned the computer on. Most of the tards who manage to get computer time know how to mash the space and enter keys, and that tends to be all that their games require. This computer never gave us a problem, other than occasionally having to pull shit out of the keyboard or turn it off and back on again because it got dropped. It managed to sustain drool, temper tantrums, flying objects, and repeated unplugging.

The same could not be said for our new computer. First of all we had to get all new games. The tards didn’t like this. It was frustrating enough for them to learn how to play the games the first time, having to do it twice was just unthinkable. This lead to a general dislike of the new computer amongst the tards.


One day Leigh saw one of my aids insert a CD-ROM into the CD drive to install a program. As soon as the aid turned her back Leigh had hit the eject button and slammed her hand on the tray hard enough to break it.

This made the situation much worse. Not only didn’t the tards like the new games, but we couldn’t even install them. After disciplining Leigh (she lost computer time indefinitely), I called the librarian (our schools PC technician) to tell her what happened. She said she would bring down a new CD-ROM and install it around lunch time. I asked her if we could have our old computer back, and she told me that the new one was far better, and I should really forget about the old one. This pissed me off. No librarian bitch is going to tell me what’s best for my class. I decided it was about time Jason got some computer time.

It took Jason about 3 minutes of frustration before he kicked the monitor off the table and hit the computer with his chair. Apparently he couldn’t figure out how to get the games started. The librarian gave us back our old computer because the cost of replacing our new one was just too much. Jason got punished, I took away his computer time indefinitely, or more specifically until I need another computer smashed.

#21: Antonio’s Desk:

Twice a marking period we have desk clean out. This is when the students have to take out everything inside their desk and throw away the stuff they don’t really need. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit that these tards have been keeping in their desk.


By far the scariest desk was Antonio’s. He doesn’t throw anything away, and because of his obsessive behavior he flips out whenever we try to explain to him that he has to get rid of it. Some of the interesting things we found in his desk include.

1. A large pile of bloody fingernails. Antonio bites his fingernails like till they bleed and he tends to hoard them in certain places. I had to get out the latex gloves to clean this mess up.

2. A large pile of chewed tard pencils. These pencils were beyond destroyed, they were compost. The shear quantity of wood and graphite that this kid must ingest could probably kill a small mammal.

3. Four rolls of toilet paper, stolen from the bathroom. When I asked Antonio why he had these, he responded “Just in case”. I mean, what kind of fucking accident, and trust me I’ve seen them all, is going to require four full rolls of toilet paper?

4. A bunch of rubber bands. These I took away immediately. [See CITE]

In the end I explained to Antonio that he should only keep assignments, paper, and pencils in his desk. I then took away all his stuff and gave him two new pencils. I doubt they will make it to the end of the day.


Archived Tard Blog entries:  

The best ones are in bold.


Riti Sped Archives


Sarah Hammon



The First Entry


Malcolm's Chair of Death


Tards and stickers


Tard likes stretchy things


Even Riti Sped can be immature


Fun with water


Francis: The Worst Tard Ever

Another long day


Tard has touching problems


The field trip

The post field-trip


Antonio's Revenge


More parents stories


Cops take Tard


Meet Augusta...but don't touch him


Tards have food fight


Another Francis story


Tard likes fire


Tard nearly kills old person


Tard curses poorly


Tard brings candy, flips out


Angelo learns not to lie


Tard nearly ruins date


Librarian meets Joe


Tard doesn't like rat tails 


Macaroni Fiasco


If you cross Riti Sped, you could get deported


Tard loses fight


Even punishments can be funny

Every student is funny in their own way

Tard flips out, makes a mess


Classroom gains “new-tard” smell


A review of Riti Sped's Christmas gifts


Riti's favorite tard


Augusta the thief


Jamel likes Riti's friends



Augusta's fear of germs hit new level


Riti's class makes stuff for Tucker


An average day in Riti's life


Lewis is funny

Retardism runs in Family 


Riti teaches the tards about sex


Tards contribute snacks


Augusta won't touch mail either


New kid has interesting background


Tard parents makes ass out of himself, literally


Guest Contributor: What it's like in Riti's class


Tom gets upset


Sub is not welcomed


More Tyrell stories

Tyler's father is the retarded one


Poetic justice is sweet


Riti a teacher, not a dietician


Tards go to play, all hell breaks loose


Lindsay's OCD causes problems


The Tyrell Lap


Book Order Day


Augusta gets fed up, tries to kill classmate


Tyler's nose candy


Tard birthdays are non-traditional

Lunch lady gets the smack down


Jamel loses lunch friend


Augusta caught in a lie


Augusta doesn't like tard birthday


New kid might have problems


Show and tell


Lindsay is observant


Eye and ear test produces surprising results


Valentines Day Party


Tards send themselves cards


Augusta steals, again


Jamel kills another animal


The new, new kid


Tom loses it


Tyrell has problems with referees


Treat jar causes problems


Augusta steals more food


Augusta's criminal activities move up in scope


New New Kid's mom going overboard


Van ride goes wrong


New mother reads her Machiavelli


Tyler and Tyrell visit their father in jail


Lewis becomes obsessed


St. Paddy's Day


Brian likes movies


Another day in a tard class


Student mismanages money


Mom's math sucks


Tard has problems with change:


Tards learn about different races:


Augusta and his bling-bling


Tards not ready for upper level sports


Tard gets sassy






Copyright 2002-3, Brody Voss & Sarah Hammon. All rights reserved.