It's About Liberty: A Conservative Forum
Topics => Entertainment => Topic started by: trapeze on July 21, 2011, 01:13:02 AM
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FunnyExam.com (http://funnyexam.com)
Advice: Be sure not to be drinking something when you see some of these.
An example:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1599/resized/2girls1essay.jpg)
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1601/resized/2girls1essay2.jpg)
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I knew someone in school who did this (all the time) and it's amazing that it never resulted in this:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1595/resized/thatswhatshesaid.jpg)
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Put your drink down. Don't drink it. An "Honors English" student:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1607/resized/waltwhitman.jpg)
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Probably a conservative Republican by now:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1649/resized/kilometer.jpg)
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Probably a conservative Republican by now:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1649/resized/kilometer.jpg)
Were I the parent , this silly ass would be in for a personal visit from me .
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Probably a conservative Republican by now:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1649/resized/kilometer.jpg)
Were I the parent , this silly ass would be in for a personal visit from me .
Young Newt Gingrich in an alternative universe.
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If you imagine that this was written by a child who eventually went into journalism, got hired by CNN and then was fired for making anti-semetic remarks about Jon Stewart then this can only be the work of young Rick Sanchez. Either that or Rachel Maddow.
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/3899/resized/n1043010659_30466270_9968.jpg)
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::hysterical::
I always enjoy the humor that is sometimes present when documenting the delcine of the gene pool!
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Dayum! Those would be hilarious if it didn't show how much the country has deteriated.
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Probably a conservative Republican by now:
(http://assets.funnyexam.com/hashed_silo_content/silo_content/1649/resized/kilometer.jpg)
This one is a snapshot of the mentality of the prototype bureaucrat / Ruling Class puke. Their demand for mental submission is a form of sociopathology, basically "Not only are you going to sit there and be brainwashed, but you damn well better pretend that you like it."
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I would have served that detention with proud defiance.
My mom would have offered to kick his/her azz. ::mooning::
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Oh, do I have some stories.
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Oh, do I have some stories.
Care to share?
/I must be a masochist, like I need more righteous outrage .......
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Oh, do I have some stories.
Care to share?
/I must be a masochist, like I need more righteous outrage .......
No, these wouldn't make you outraged, they'd make you laugh. The stories I'm referring to are about me as a smartass student. After perusing this thread, I realized... I was not alone!!!
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No you are not.
My mouth (big surprise I know!) usually got me in more trouble than anything!
Detention? Parents & Principals? Punishment?
Check, check & check.
But I have to say, I had a LOT of FUN!
::evil::
;D
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I went to a public high school run by hippies. It was actually called a "Mod School", because it offered "modular scheduling". This meant in essence that students were free to explore their studies with as little structure as possible. Nice idea, if your goal is to graduate a few years of academic retards before you get a clue and change the system - which did happen two years after I graduated. The theory was that with less structured class time, students could learn how to manage their time and put their energies into elective studies that they found interesting - with a hat-tip to core curriculum, of course. Major fail.
I had a creative writing class once, where the teacher made the mistake of telling us that anything goes, and to explore our imaginations. Part of the class was sharing recitals with the other students. He had to abandon his "anything goes" policy because of me.
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Heh. Does that paper still exist?
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Heh. Does that paper still exist?
No, but at the time, I was working part time at a meatpacking plant, and one of the things that I discovered there was that next-to-NOTHING on the cow goes to waste. I captured that awakening with a poem I wrote and recited called "Ode to Bull Nuts". It began, "Oh, little footballs, once so potent..." The laughter of the students, the chaos that ensued, and the look on the teacher's face is something I'll never forget. And it was the next day that new guidelines came out for the class, lest anyone get the idea that copying my example might be fun - at least that's what I assume was the reason.
I basically undermined the whole premise of the class. It was supposed to be a free exploration of creativity, with no boundaries other than grammar. I demonstrated the vapidity of such an exercise for 16 year old kids. I forced the teacher to set boundaries, and then for the remainder of the semester, I pushed them to their limit.
The funny thing is, my poem was a perfect example to the letter of exactly what he told us he expected. I got an A for that assignment, and the class. But I was a thorn in his side.
Anyhoo, a few of the papers posted by Trap remind me of me.
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I never did any of that stuff.
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I never did any of that stuff.
You were never a teenage boy.
::angel::
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I never did any of that stuff.
You were never a teenage boy.
::angel::
Was too! And Black.
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::hysterical::
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Was too! And Black.
I was born a poor black child.
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I Was Born A Poor Black Child (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfAvQp-Uk5I#)
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Exactly.
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I got two weeks for thowing my desk across the room.That bitch failed me for not using a pen for a test that I got a A on.
I refused to apologise for it,and never did either.
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I never did any of that stuff.
You were never a teenage boy.
::angel::
My rebellion took more of a technological edge.
In my sophomore year I discovered that all of the analog clocks were synchronized. I also discovered how and where they were synchronized. I also discovered how and where the bells were controlled.
This knowledge allowed me to advance the time on the school clocks and then ring the bells to dismiss classes (usually at the end of the day).
I also held my own fire drills (ringing the bells three times in a row would cause everyone to get up and file out the doors).
Oh, the fun I had that year.
And I never did get caught.
Teachers would stand there, mouths open, and watch the clocks advance ten, fifteen or twenty minutes in the space of thirty seconds and then the bell would ring and their students would get up and leave. Cracked me up every time.
I didn't do it too often. No more than once a week.
Terrific fun.
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Our school had the "Little Store", where kids could buy soda, snacks, candy, etc. It was a revenue generator for the school, and the various clubs and orgs ran fund-raisers out of there.
There was no school-wide ban on transporting and eating these snacks. It was assumed that since we used our own money, what we purchased in the store was our business. If a particular teacher didn't want food or drink in class, they would say so, and it was expected that their wishes would be respected.
I made the mistake of taking an "interpersonal communications" class because a hot chick told me it was easy and that I should take it. The teacher and I did not hit it off, to say the least. He hated me for some reason I never knew, and that just encouraged me to show him disrespect every chance I got.
One day per week we'd have a large-group lecture class where all the IPC classes would meet at the same time, and the different teachers would rotate. It was always understood that the large group lecture classes were OK for snacks. I brought Peanut M&Ms on a day Mr. Charpentier lectured, and for whatever reason, he singled me out and chose to make some kind of authoritarian example of me. He told me to give him the M&Ms. I said no, I paid for them. If you want me to put them away until after class, I'll put them in my binder, which I then proceeded to do.
He began walking quickly towards me, yelling, "I told you to give them to me!" I laughed and refused, and reiterated - I put them away, it's not going to be a problem, I won't eat any more, it's never been a problem before, but you're the teacher, if you don't want me to eat them I won't, but I'm not giving them to you.
He actually approached me, grabbed my shirt, and lifted me out of my chair, screaming, "I told you to give me the candy!" Alarmed at being manhandled, I grabbed him right back, so we had one another in both fists by the shirt-collar. I was bigger than him.
He screamed, "You're coming to the office with me!" I screamed back at him, "No, YOU'RE coming to the office with ME!" And we proceeded to haul each other down to the vice-principle's office.
We burst in (the VP and I were on a first name basis, not in a good way), and I told the VP, "This guys giving me sh*t! He's trying to take my candy that I paid for, when all he had to do was ask me to put it away. It was never a rule until today!" I was yelling at the top of my lungs.
The VP said to the teacher, "Don? How about you head back to class and let me and IDP work this out." He said to me, "I think you'd better take the rest of the day off and calm down." My buddies and I left for the rest of the day. (It was easy for them to skip out because with the Mod Scheduling, unless you had a scheduled class, there was no accounting for your whereabouts.)
When I returned to class the next day, I was no longer in Mr. Charpentier's class. I was transferred to another class, and I got along with the teacher just fine.
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They called you IDP even then?
;D
Me, I was a smart-ass, I know, shocking, ain't it?! Some teachers would joke along with me and tell me when enough is enough, others had not an ounce of joy in them so instead I turned my focus to the cute girls in class. My other antics landed me in VP office too many times to count. He hated me, I hated him, other than that we got along fine. I went to a pretty rowdy high-school. Between first bell and last your ass was theirs, but the cat & mouse games never ended. Smoking, partying and getting into everything and anything...I was a handful back then. Pretty good training for going into the military I must admit though. I had a ton of fun, got in some trouble but man was life a blast. I could have used a tech-savvy guy like you back in my day IDP...short of operating an ancient PA system or running a neolithic projector in the gym, we really didn't have technology per se! Tossing a firecracker in the john was high-tech for us.
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I puked on my vice principal. Senior skip day, when I was a junior, me and my buddies went to the quarries swimming real early in the morning before school hours, drinking southern comfort and smoking weed. (I got to share a joint with Robin Ritchie that morning - it was a highlight of my teenage years).
Somehow, somebody thought it would be a great idea to go to school and harass some of our buddies that didn't skip with us. We got there before school even started.
I remember puking out the window of my buddy Mike's car into the school parking lot. The next thing I remember is awakening to being slapped in the face. I was in the school bathroom, on the toilet, and the vice principal was slapping me, yelling my name. When I came to, he asked me if I'd been drinking. I said "No, I just don't feel good." Then I puked, right on him. I remember the look and sound of it splashing on his belt-buckle, down his pants, and seeing it land on his wingtip shoes. I remember him lurching back against the tile wall as if he'd been punched in the gut, gasping for air, trying to avoid puking himself.
The next thing I remember is waking up in my driveway in the backseat of the VP's car. I looked out the window to see him at my front door, and then coming back and saying "nobody's home" to his assistant sitting shotgun.
Next thing I remember was waking up in detox, my mother weeping at the bedside, and a doctor telling me I was lucky to be alive - blood alcohol level was just under .40, and I had been passed out from before school until about 8 at night.
My friends refer to that following summer as the summer I missed. I was grounded the entire summer between my junior and senior year, and I still hear tales of their many exploits to this day. I learned a huge lesson, and the experience kept me completely off booze until I was about 22. I couldn't smell it without being nauseous, and to this day, the smell of Southern Comfort makes my mouth water in a bad, bad way.
The next year, I was suspended for the first two weeks of school. When I finally faced the VP, there was always an understanding look in his eyes. I was from that point forward the kid who puked on him. Even at our class reunions, I could see it in his eyes. I gave him a memorable experience he'll never forget. A "life-moment".
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Dayum, never did that, and I thought I did it all!
I learned early on in life not to mix drinks. Finish what you start with.
I remember staggering home from a kegger (I went to a lot of keggers) and it was one of those 2 steps to the side/1 forward deals, seemed like it took forever to get home...and I was only about a mile and a half away! Stink like stale beer and smoke, pants soaked from the late summer dew (why did I walk through that field of high grass?)...Finally got home around 5am, trying to be real quiet opening the door (yeah, real quiet, took like 5 minutes to unlock the door and enter!), went in and started going down stairs to my room...For some reason half way down I thought it would be a good idea to start taking my wet pants off...lost my balance and tumbled to the bottom...as I lay there I thought "maybe nobody heard that?" (yeah, right, dumbass!)...I hear my father say "We'll talk later"...I mumble "Mmmkay" and stagger to my bed and fall face down on it. That was a legendary hangover. Father only talked to me...surprised the heck out of me, I was expecting a record-setting whuppin'. Somehow the non-whuppin' seemed more unpleasant.