teacher

   On this planet, there's only a select few things that I have total, unconditional hate for. They are terrorists, criminals (aka Democrats), midgets who sell snow cones, and Ms. Butler, my English teacher.
    From insane expectations for homework to completely illogical decisions, she had proven psycopathic over and over again. While I am still blinded by rage from her most recent "Act of Evil," let me share my true, but shocking, tales.

NOTE: SOME OF THESE STORIES MAY BE TOO GRAPHIC FOR YOUNGER READERS. IF YOU ARE FAINT OF HEART, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER.

   While I cannot remember all of the steps she has taken to reach the esteemed level of "demon," thanks to a repressive memory, there are a few instances which stick out broadly. One of these is from right before the Christmas holidays. It was a Monday afternoon, and as I walk into class, I saw the homework assignment on the board: "3 page summary of Gothic fiction, focusing on Mary Shelley. Due Wednsday." It would have been due Tuesday, but we didn't have her class then. I finished it, all 750 words of complete BS; researched and written in 2 nights. And remember, we're 9th graders!
    Did the insanity stop there? NO WAY! In a mere 12 nights, I had to read Frankenstein, 200 pages of sheer boredom, and answer 17 essay questions and 64 short answers on it. Wow, big project, what was that weighted as? A frickin daily grade!
    Of course, I should have seen it coming. She has a mullet, and who can trust anyone with a mullet? I figured that as an American, I could voice my opinion. So I took the initiative of wearing a shirt to her class that read "FEAR THE MULLET." Of course, she was completely oblivious, so in essence, my plan failed.
    But just recently, she did another, what I like to call, "Performance of Plight." She assigned a group assignment that would span over 3 class periods. I was there for the first 2: when the actual work was done. I just missed the third, where we did a 5 minute presentaion. When I recieved my make-up work, in it was the project, for me to do all over again, by myself, on a brand new topic.

    These are the short, breif accounts of my fourth period. They are not fully detailed, and beleive me, there is MUCH more where that came from. I would relay them, but I am on the brink of an emotional breakdown from re-living these instances. Thank you for your time.



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