Friday, August 10, 2007

Who Are You Calling A Cootie Queen, You Lint Licker!

What the French, toast?

I may have to clean up the language soon. I have a line on a gig at a conservative Christian pyramid scheme to be named later. I know. I know. I'm not sure if it's a sign of the apocalypse either. I can't imagine a working day in which I didn't call at least one person a fucking idiot. It's why I don't teach preschool. This will be interesting.

I wish I was friends with Bernie Mac. I think he's been underused as an asset in the Ocean's franchise. Take a letter, Clooney, re: 14, Mac featured more prominently, less Pitt cheekbone.

Hey guess what? Someone in my Anatomy and Physiology class got the epididymis and the clitoris mixed up on an anatomically correct set of models. Google them if it's been a while since sex ed.

I was thinking back on Catholic school when they separated the fifth grade boys from the fifth grade girls and told us "the facts." We had to have a permission slip from our parents to hear it. And nary a word was mentioned again until I was 15.

Anyway, there was a lack of giggling and whispering and no one put an embarrassing question in the hat anonymously and I don't think masturbation was mentioned at all, and if it was, it was for sure not called "self-abuse" this time around and now we're all grown ups and shit when suddenly our teacher puts up a transparency of the penis showing the coronal plane, which if you don't know what that is, imagine what was left after Lorena Bobbitt's work was done. Anyway, so the various ducts and such kind of look like a face from that view and the teacher drew whiskers and ears on it to look like a kitty.

It was the black beret on the kitty that did it for me.

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