Monday, August 21, 2006

The Moon is in the Seventh House with Shit Rising



This may be whiny,but I've always felt like a bad-luck magnet. I get a reprieve every now and again, but there are ominous cycles out there and I'm prone to them. For example:

When I was 10, a new Swedish student broke my skull- I was on deck, he was at bat, he didn't know about the lay-the-bat-down rule and flung the bat right at my right orbital socket. A few days later my mom made me go to 5th grade graduation with a baby-blue/pirate-like eye patch to cover my (by then) hideously bruised and swollen face.

When I was 15 I (along with all the passengers of the car) got cited for Minor in Possession of Alcohol (it was in the back seat of my panicky friend's car), but I didn't drink yet.

When I was 17, I was arrested for criminal trespassing (read: swimming in a 'no swim zone' in the lazy Guadalupe River), released and then held by the cops for illegally skateboarding the following night. OK, these were actually completely my fault, but in light of all the bad people in the world, I think the cops were really reaching that week.

My wife, who notoriously drives like a bat out of hell in her red truck, has never received a speeding ticket in her life. I on the other hand,drive a station wagon and get one speeding ticket per/year on average and am known to drive like a grandma. I usually get cited for 35 in a 30 mph zone or 64 in a 60 mph zone. On time I got two speeding tickets in one day - 60ish in a 55 mph (x 2) zone on a deserted highway in West Texas.


But that brings me to today - another small chapter in the bad luck tale. On my way to facilitate some offsite training this morning, this asshole looks right at me, runs his truck into my car and dents up the rear wheel fender. Then when I get to the training, I bend over to release a door stopper and close the doors to the classroom when wwwwriiuuuppp, my pants split on the right inseam. It's real fun cracking ventilation jokes all day to play off the fact that you're embarrassed as hell to be in front of a crowd with a rip in your Dockers 7 inches from your dick, the boys, and those boxer-briefs that Ladyfriend thinks are so sexy. If I'm counting blessings and all that shit, I'm not hurt and at least my pants didn't rip up my crotch or ass crack. So I took the car to the shop, got my rental car (Progressive Insurance rocks BTW), and came home to a shitty email.

Remember the post before about the graph paper? After a total of 6 stores we still couldn't find the paper so we just bought loose leaf, put it in a three ring binder and sent a very polite email to the teacher saying that we hope this would suffice. So I get home today and the teacher flamed me about how I should call ahead or go online to see if they have all my supply needs. WTF? Does he honestly believe that any store inventory will be accurate anywhere near the first week of school?? He then went on to tell me the name of the store where I could get said graph-binder. So we're just caving and will buy the shit from his store. You gotta pick your battles right? Shit.

5 Comments:

Blogger Steve Caratzas said...

When we're out there for Lebowski Fest next month, I'll find that Swedish kid's bat and crack the teacher's skull for ya.

2:58 PM  
Blogger MsAPhillips said...

What will it be like to be the kids spending a year in Mr. Sphincter's class? It's tempting not to wait for him to be unfair to various chosen individuals in his classroom, but to strike back with precision, vigor, and righteous indignation. A simple "I expect to be treated with professionalism and respect" email with a copy to the principal may work wonders.
THEN a Louisville Slugger with a map of his fontanel on it...

4:23 PM  
Blogger yournamehere said...

steve caratzas and msaphillips are going to be at Lebowski Fest. Fuck yeah!!! I'm looking forward to the debauchery.

6:59 PM  
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