The Tard Blog

#10: Angelo learns not to lie:

Today I was explaining to the students that they need to get their permission slips signed by their parents if they want to go to the field trip. I was diligently repeating to the students that "their parents need to sign the slip, the slip I just gave you, the slip that I'm going to make sure is in each of your book bags when you leave, the slip that I'll have extra copies of if you lose them, the slip that looks like this (holding it up), the yellow permission slip that your parents have to sign." You get the idea.

As I was repeating this over and over to the students, I got clocked in the side of the face with a giant, drool covered wad of paper. This wasn't just any spit ball either, it was fucking humungous. There was so much spit on it you could smell the student's bad breath, and the recoil from the impact almost made me fall over.

 

I was very shaken up, it took me a few seconds to gain my composure and peal the gooey mass off of my face. It was then that I realized the spit ball from hell was yellow.

 

Glancing towards the back of the desk area I notice about six comatose tards are missing their yellow permission slips. I know for a fact that none of those six tards could have winged that monster of a projectile at me, as they are barely able to even say their names.

 

In the middle of these six tards is Angelo, with a desktop covered in drool, and bits of yellow paper stuck to his lips.

I told Angelo that if he wasn't good he wouldn't be able to go on the field trip and I made him sit on the other side of the room. Later I asked Angelo why he threw the spit ball, his reply "What spit ball?". I am really sick of his shit, so I took his desk and put it in the hallway.

 

After his punishment was over and I told him he could return to his seat. He asked "Where is my desk?" I replied "What desk?"
 


 

 

 

 

Back to The Tard Blog

 

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