Gradgrind On This!

December 3, 2011


So the perty boy took the nite off…to go play with that perty little wife of his if he’s smart as he thinks he is…and said I could write somethin’. He’ll probly just go play with himself…all uppity and shit. I told him “Hey I got a story for your ass. Lemme at this bloggity bullshit.”

So they make me take some bullshit English class over at Tech, where I’m goin’ back for my certification, right? And this smartass assclown teacher they got is talkin’ out his ass about some old assclown named Dickens, or some shit, and some story…Hard Knocks…Good Times…Good Grind…Hard Times! Yeah, I think that’s it. Ya know? And I’m sorta hangin’ in there ’cause I’m hearin’: Hard Times, Grad-GRIND, somethin’ about a school…shit, this might be goin’ somewhere good, right?

But its kinda weird, man. I started thinkin’ about this sorryass teacher I had in middle school, Mr. Myers. Nah, no relation to dipshit, here. Don’t get your panties all waddy. This dipshit taught science. Well…he didn’t teach shit, really. Science was the name of the frickin’ class. He was such a lazy shit. We would go in there and he would have whoever the perty girl or wimpy-ass suckup was take his stack of copied notes…back when copiers were those crankin’ things and the ink still smelled funky when you got one…anyways…take his stack a notes, go to the front of each row of desks, count how many dumbasses were in each row, and give the first person the right amount of copies. We’d pass ’em back, and it was amazing how many times there would still be some dumbass like me in the back who still didn’t get one. That shit was funny. And don’t make me get up to get one, neither. Shit, back then I was probly sporting permanent wood, and sure as hell didn’t know what to do with it. I sure as hell wasn’t presentin’ it to the whole frickin’ class.

But that was the class, man. Here’s your 3 pages of notes to copy. When your done pass them forward to the front and do whatever the hell you want so long as you sit your ass in your desk and don’t make any damn noise. Shit, sleep was always a damn good choice. Pocket pool, whatever…

But the thing was all this asshole ever did was sit there and read the goddamn newspaper. Seriously, man. He didn’t really want to so much as look at your ass. Shit. Not MY ass anyway. Hell I’ll give’m that. It wasn’t hard to see the asses he WAS lookin’ at, ya know what I’m sayin’? The goddamn game of who’s-zoomin’-who is already starting in middle school, with the little hotties always having to go to the nurse, or some shit, for “female issues…and…can my friend please go to?” All bullshit innocent. And of course his slimy dumb ass would get all blushy. Bet your ass he’d watch ’em walk out the door though. Asshole. He was probly like those teachers in the fuggin’ Pink Floyd movie where they get their ass beat by these bigass broads when they get home, so they take that shit out on the kids. I wonder if that Dickens dipstick was English? So here’s the thing that gets me, man. I heard later from perty boy here’s younger wife that this assclown was made into principal. Holy shit are you shittin’ me?! No wonder we’re a bunch of dumbasses! And I’m not sure who to be more shittin’ at. Him for being a shithead who didn’t really give a damn about teaching kids or the frickin’ system for allowing pricks like that to be principal. Hell I’m thinkin’ him, man. Shit. Schools round here probly do the best with what they got.

So anyways we read like the first chapter of that Hard Times shit in class, talkin’ about this fuggin’ Gradgrind dude, and all. And to be honest with you, man…it wasn’t bad…

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6 Comments on “Gradgrind On This!”

  1. kateshrewsday Says:

    Shit, you’re good. tell perty boy you can come back here n’ write some more of this bloggity bullshit anydamn time you wanna.


  2. Andra Watkins Says:

    What’s funny about this post is how many people I know whose voices I put into the speaker. I once had a client who talked exactly like this character. Well done.


    • Brett Myers Says:

      Thanks, Andra. Knowing this voice comes with the territory, eh? Though one could spend the rest of their days rewriting it in all the different dialects, I suppose…


  3. elizabethyon Says:

    Oh! I’m back in middle school! That voice, that swagger, is just so frickin’ evocative! And the sheepish admission at the end made me laugh out loud. Excellent, man.


  4. leahgahagan Says:

    It’s like Charles Bukowski and Quentin Tarantino had a love child and someone gave it too much PBR before bedtime. Good stuff!


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