Dear Skank at the Old Wal-Mart,

I noticed you at the old Wal-Mart the other night. Not the new one, the old one that they remodeled a couple of years ago. I guess you must have watched Pretty Woman earlier that day before you got dressed to go do your shopping at the Wal-Mart because girl, you were dressed to the 80's nines. Those thigh-high boots were something else. I didn't even know they still made those in periwinkle suede. Or maybe you got them at the Goodwill, because they did look pretty worn out, and you weren't older than maybe twenty two, so I know you haven't owned them since Pretty Woman came out in theaters.

I also saw how your pimp, or baby-daddy or whatever, was kind of helping you push the cart. Although, he had to stop a lot and touch his chin with his thumb and nod at other skanks passing by. And he could really only push with one hand because his other hand was otherwise occupied with holding up his pants.

It was of some concern to my boyfriend how your butt cheeks came out of the bottom of your lycra skirt when you bent over to make your selection from the bottom shelf of vodkas in the Wal-Mart liquor aisle. And I noticed how the little boy riding in the cart looked really sleepy. It's probably because it was about eleven at night, or maybe it was just the FAS-like face he was making. It's hard to tell.

Anyways, it was cool seeing you. Stay real.

Kids Don't Know How to Work for Anything Anymore

Well, it's Mardi Gras again. Time for all the semi-attractive females to let lose their sweater puppets for an onslaught of drunken college boys and desperate, lonely men. In New Orleans there are actual cultural festivities associated with this pre-Lent observance, but for the rest of the country, it is just an excuse to come to work with a hangover on a Wednesday.

This year I am most offended because Mardi Gras beads are being sold at lunches to our students. Not because they represent a celebration marked by drunkenness and debauchery, but because in my day, we had to work for our beads! There was no way we could pay fifty cents a strand and walk around campus as if we had actually done something to earn those beads. We had to bear all in the freezing winter temperatures to greasy creepers. We wore those beads as a badge of honor, not a hip accessory.

So shame on you, society, for taking away the opportunity for our girls to learn the value of good, honest, hard work!

Hide Your Kids, Hide Your Wives...

Obviously, we have a bad influence in our public school system! I'm sitting in parent-teacher conferences and I keep wanting to tell all my students' parents to go to the school board and complain because our curriculum is terrible and our district is failing all of our standardized tests! "34% of our students pass the state math exam with a C- average, why are you smiling?!?"

Then I just met a mom and dad who, all I could do was stare at the mom's gigantic bosoms and false eyelashes.

I'd blame my inappropriate behavior on my lack of concentration due to my dad's gigantic brain tumors, but I do this every semester during parent-teacher conferences.