Friday, April 30, 2010

There's a dick on my wall

No, seriously.  There's a dick on my wall.

 Can you spot it?

Ignore the blackened wall.  I didn't cause it.  And no, my back's perfectly fine and I don't have bacne anymore.  I said ignore it!

Now you believe me?

By the way, my final observation's next week.

The culmination of six years studying how to be an English teacher.

This is fucking it. 

Whether I'm cut out to be one or not.

Whether I can inspire generations, or DESTROY 'em.

And also, the resolution of my little blog drama, I will know.  I'm sure you people are dying to know what'll happen to me.  I'm dying too.  Pretty much dead already, though.

Time to write the most epic lesson plans ever.

Wish me luck people.

Friday, April 23, 2010

A Post For Amanda 20 Years From Now

Dear Madam Amanda,

          Uh, I assume you're married to the guy I'm dating now?  No? Or are you...still a Miss?  If you're not married you'd be get your ass hitched now as your students (and new teachers/trainees) will call you a 40 Year-Old-Virgin.  Like you did before.

          Anyway, Amanda from the past just wants to make sure that 20 years from her time now, you are still as awesome and hot as she is right now.  Please make sure you keep your fashion sense up-to-date, but I'm begging you to not dress like your daughter! If you have a daughter, that is.  And our daughter better be hot and be breaking every teenage boys' heart.  What I'm saying is, don't turn into those marmish teachers - wear fugly courtshoes, every clothes in your closet is either black, white or grey, or plaids and wool, and wear your hair exactly like when you woke up this morning.  And I'm not talking about the sexy bed hair.  You don't get to have the sexy bad hair anymore.  Let me try to get that right, now.  Also, keep up with the pedicures 'coz you know our feet ain't a pretty sight.  It would look horrific at your age now.  So please, save your loved ones from such sight.

          Secondly, now that you are forty, it doesn't mean you have to act like an old fart.  Don't be a bitter bag.  Don't hate on the new, hot young teachers or trainees who come to your school.  Don't be bent on finding if they have blogs and hatch up an evil plan to expose their hard partying and obscene ways.  You were once like them.  I hope you're not anymore now, though.  You'd seriously embarrass our daughter.  And also, as much as you hate them, especially those confused wide-eyed teacher trainees, promise me you won't drop a call at their learning institution complaining "these teachers are pretty - they will be a pain in the ass".  'Coz grandma, that is so not cool.  Remember, you were ONCE like them.

          Now, I hope you're still using our by-the-book ridiculous teaching method? The set-induction-presentation-practice-production-closure method?  Because as much as I hate doing it just for the sake of not failing my practical, I find that it ACTUALLY works.  It is not ridiculous after all.  The genius who came up with this method is indeed, a genius.  Because if you stop teaching 'by the book', you'll be JUST THE SAME like the other teachers who drop everything that they have learned in their teacher training college as soon as they got their first official teaching job.  You will be just like any other teachers who don't write their plans.  'Coz I'm telling you - the reason students love teacher trainees?  It's because they are NOT like their everyday teachers.  The rules that we hate and we have to slave ourselves doing are the rules that make us better teachers.  So please, don't ever stop having especially a set induction and production stage in your class.  'Coz most of the time, that is what students are looking forward for in your lesson.  And that's why you rock.

           And lastly, like I said earlier, I hope you are still as awesome and hot as I am now.  Look like a damn cougar for all I care, as along as you keep yourself looking pleasant for your students' eyes.  Don't ever, ever stop reading College Humour and Cyanide and Happiness, and listening to so that you'll never be lost in the currents of change, trends and absolute wickedness - no matter how old you are.    And be humble and ready to listen to your younger colleagues for new teaching methods out there so that you would not be a living dinosaur.  And of course, if you're still not married at this age, don't touch your students no matter how bad you want to, you pedo.

        And of course, I hope you're still running Absolutely Wicked so that you can read this piece of junk every now and then.  I want to haunt you till you die to make sure you'll never lose your soul in this god-forsaken profession.  And if you are actually reading this blog post from the past, that means you have already found the loophole that I'm searching for now, fucked the system, made bloody history and be legendarily awesome.

Also, the internet has not collapsed and the world hasn't ended.


Saturday, April 17, 2010

The Transaction

The noblest job on earth is what you choose,
without realising what you would lose;
it's no longer a job - when the job consumes you.

You are no longer human,
of flesh and blood.
You are an angel,
sent from the heavens up above.

An angel with mechanical wings.
A sinless android.
An immaculate robot.
A virtuous machine.

No matter how hard your scream,
they can't hear you.
No matter how much you bleed,
they can't see you.

For the mask of purity
is forged on your bloodied face.  Perfectly.
Muffling any sound of defiance.

(All they see now is a saint.)
(All they want to see now is a saint.)

I bet you didn't read the fine print -
It stated  "For the rest of your life,
you have to be an angel -
once you decided to sell your soul to the devil."

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The Aftershock

And the plot thickens...

By the way, notice something odd?

Friday, April 9, 2010

Freedom of Speech

According to the passive-aggressive-always-in-need-of-donation-by-making-you-feel-bad-getting-information-for-free Wikipedia, freedom of speech is:

The freedom to speak without censorship and/or limitation. The synonymous term freedom of expression is sometimes used to indicate not only freedom of verbal speech but any act of seeking, receiving and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used. In practice, the right to freedom of speech is not absolute in any country and the right is commonly subject to limitations, such as on "hate speech".

Does our country practice freedom of speech?  I ran into this article about how qualified it is in Malaysia, and I couldn't agree more with this quote:

A friend remarked: “Freedom of speech? Of course we have it in Malaysia! You can say anything you want in your speech. Its your freedom after your speech that is in question!”

But the issue that I'd like to focus on is the freedom of speech of teachers.

After the deep shit that I had to go through a couple of days ago, it got me thinking.

Have I lost my right to speak after I have signed those bloody documents, 6 years ago?

As you all know, I like to speak my mind here, and by the looks of my writing style, my blog is definitely NOT student/parent/dinosaur teacher friendly.

Hence, the complaint.  I unintentionally made history.  Being the first in my cohort to be called to the principal's office, in less than 6 weeks on the job.

Only in 6 weeks on the job, I received my first letter of complaint.  Now that's one story I can tell my grandchildren, and they'll know how epic their nana is; groggy and sans teeth.

Anyway, back to my present hot self. 

This issue got me thinking.

Maybe I SHOULD NOT be a teacher anyway.  Maybe I am NOT THE RIGHT person for this saintly, virtuous and righteous job.  I am not an angel and I don't make a good role model.

I'm beginning to love the job, but when I thought of quitting it due to the inability to measure up to be the person society expects me to kinda suck.  And to think that if I continue to be a teacher and leave my old wicked ways behind, which is, moi... I just want to bury myself alive.

All I want to be is just a teacher who kicks ass in her lessons, and students can actually learn something in class.  I will try my best to keep the profanities away in CLASS, because any dumbfuck would know it's inappropriate.  But I can't keep up with the goody-two-shoes facade outside the school or in cyberspace.

It's tiring to be fake and all smiley to senior teachers who'd just ignore your greetings, and being all nice and virtuous in class.  I'm getting laugh lines 'coz of that.  And it just feels good to swear my ass out once I'm out of the school compound.

The best advice I got was to clean up the expletives in my writing.  But don't these profanities make me?  And show my true feelings?  Okay, compare these two sentences:

  1. I'm selling my printer 'coz I don't want to lug that heavy thing that always causes me printing trouble back home.
  2. I'm selling my printer 'coz I don't want to lug that motherfucker back home.
Pray, tell me, which sentence is more concise and reflects my true feelings towards my printer?

And if I do need to clean up my act, I'd have to change my blog name to Absolutely Not Wicked - Please Ignore, Unless You Want Your Eyes To Bleed From Reading Ridiculously Nice Stories About People and School And Learn How To Be Extremely Polite To People.

So what I'm saying is, if I decided to clean up my act, I'd die inside 'coz I won't be able to express my true feelings.  I'd have to sugar coat it till you readers die of word diabetes.

So yeah, I'm in a dilemma now.

My problem is somehow not a big deal anymore (yet - till my practical is truly over then I'll know that I'm safe for sure).  But I know this issue will crop up again, at some point in my life.  Probably the first month of my first posting? Who knows? I AM epic after all.  And this time, I'd be in deeper shit because I am a staff in the school, and a full fledged teacher.  I am excused now 'coz I'm only a newbie and I won't be in my current school for long.

I would have to make a choice.

Be Amanda, the Awesome Wicked Blogger, or be Miss Amanda, the Awesome but Good Righteous Teacher.

It seems like I can't be both.

But a fellow teacher, Master Mervyn inspired me to be both anyway.

So I just found out what I can do.

Yes, I will clean up my profanities, but not now - someday.  Maybe when I have children already? (GAH!).  I will try my best to be as expressive minus the fucking profane words though.

So for the time being, having a disclaimer is my best bet:

Do not assume that you know everything there is to know about a writer simply because you read their weblog on a regular basis. Any judgements you make will be based on the information they have provided you about themselves, which is probably vague, incomplete or embellished. Whatever opinion you form on them as people, or their life as a whole, is probably best kept to yourself. Remember, you are the reader

The internet is a place that encourages free and creative expression, and as in any environment where people are given this freedom, conflict may arise. If an author uses language or materials that offend you, leave. Contacting the person or their isp, demanding they remove the content or change their ways is absurd because you are viewing their content of your own free will by visiting their site. Simply stop going there and you won't have to see whatever it is you don't like about the site. An obvious exception to this would be if someone were providing illegal materials, in which case it would be appropriate to complain to their isp or contact authorities.

I can now respond to overbearing parents/principal/dinosaur teachers, and save my ass from being sued for 'misconduct'.

Me likey.

And once my practical's over, this blog will be open for public.  

I'd really like to make money from the Google ads. *hinting*

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

It's A Private Party Now, Bitches

Hello invited readers.  As you can see, my blog is now a private party.  I can't run my darn mouth for the whole world to read about, for now.

While I heard stories of coursemates' head being bitten off, dealing with problematic kids and just being sucked of every drop of their blood, I was strolling along wonderland.  Then it hit me.  Things are going very well for me.  Too well.  Something is BOUND to happen.  And it will eventually explode in my face.

And finally it did.

Yesterday, two students approached me, warning me that one particular teacher is bent on finding and reading my blog.  Apparently my blog link was circulated around the school, so I guess she must wondering why am I such a hot stuff, besides the obvious. So they told me to just do something to my blog before 50 Year Old Virgin finds it, or hell will break lose.  I can be cruder now since this blog is private.  Yay.

So I did try tweaking with the settings yesterday, but I couldn't find that magic button.  Plus I had to do my work.  So I thought, why don't I do it tomorrow, first thing in the morning?  I'm sure 50 Year Old Virgin will only go searching for my blog during the weekends while she plays with her 30 cats.

Alas, I was too late.

I got called to the headmistress' office, first thing in the morning.  I knew it was going to be about my infamous blog, but I was crossing my fingers hoping it'd be about something else.  I was prepared though, to receive hell, and memorised my lines for an insincere apology.

She was surprisingly nice.  Seriously, what is wrong with the universe? She asked me how's my experience in school, whether I'm enjoying it, what do I think of the students bla bla bla.  And she went on about how she thinks I'm a good teacher, students like me, they enjoy my lesson bla bla bla.  Then came the sentence, "You have fans in the school.  You are a great INFLUENCE."

Shit.  Of course.

Then she gracefully showed me a piece of paper.

It was a letter of complaint from a parent of a student in my class.  Saying how 'terkilan' he/she is about the writings of my blog.  What does terkilan mean, anyway?  Shocked? Sad?  Furious?  Whatever.  And of course, that bugger included my blog link.  And of course Madam Pengetua OPENED THE LINK AND READ THE CONTENTS OF MY BLOG.  Suddenly that link seemed like a dirty little slut who have been exposed of her conduct.

Lucky for me, Madam Pengetua was really nice.  She understands that we're not angels, and we have our private lives, but she asked me to be careful, nonetheless.  She also asked me to keep up with my blogging as she was pretty impressed - but of course, minus the profanities.

To cut story short, I am a big bad influence towards my students as my blog is the only website on the internet that teaches students bad language.  And of course, I'm a teacher so I have to act like a saint, talk like a saint, and blog like a saint.  Hey, I get to be a fucking saint!  Oops, I just used the F word.  My fucking bad.

Hence, my story on why I have to privatise my blog.  It's not a temporary thing, 'coz I'm hungry for traffic (ads!). 

So I'm safe.  For now.

I don't know if 50 Year Old Virgin found my blog or not, but she did look at me funny though.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Effeminate Men

I have a growing concern towards the younger generation female population. Gone are the days when tall, dark and handsome men are on their crush/stalk list. Fantasies of our men in a mechanic's overall, swabbed with black oil or men with 6 packers, all sweaty and bloody don't seem to arouse them.

Then what does?

I'm not generalising, it may not apply to ALL girls and it also may not be true, but this is just what I'm seeing lately.

Effeminate men are so much hotter these days.

I'm not referring to these chaps though:

I'm referring to men who have traits, tastes or habits that are traditionally considered as feminine.

If you still don't know what I'm talking about, here are the 4 main physical characteristics of effeminate men:

1. He has a fair complexion; blemish and wrinkle free.

2. He has hair that looked like he took an hour to do. Not to mention healthy and silky.

3. He has nicely trimmed eyebrows, no facial hair and wears minimal make up: lipgloss, powder etc.

4. He wears more makeup than you, actually:

5. He has a voice that can beat any vocal actress for a princess role of a fairy tale cartoon.

As for Justin Bieber, for my life I have no idea why girls in school are crazy about a hormonally retarded teenager. Maybe if he grows some facial hair and exchanges his vocal chords with Miley Cyrus, I'd get it.

See, they're not gay, they just happen to have extra estrogen yet still loves some pussy. 'Cept for Lambert and perhaps Bieber no matter how hard he tries to convince us in his songs. A little digression here - I think Bill Kaulitz (second picture) and Lambert makes makeup on men look hot, not in a drag queen kind of way, but androgynously, though.

By the way, if you find that more than three of the characteristics above tickle your fancy, you definitely love de-balled men and you can play make over with them.

And if you're into these kinda girls I mean guys, why?

Here are the reasons I can think of:
  1. You can share your skincare regime.
  2. You can share clothes.
  3. You can share makeup.
  4. He can help you do your hair and paint your nails.
  5. He can give wicked fashion advice. And of course, go shopping together!
  6. A guy who cries looking at a sunset is more worth it than a guy who can't for his life tell what's new about your hair.
  7. You can have cocktails together! No more feeling dragged to a tacky pub for cheap beer with his buddies. He can join the girls!
  8. He'll cry with you when watching sad movies.
  9. You would think that there's finally equality in a relationship?
Of course, these may sound like the characteristics of your gay bestfriend, but it's not. That's just how your effeminate boyfriend rolls. Or so you think.

As for me, I like my man all ripped and rough and only takes 10 minutes to dress and get ready. Though I do make sure he follows the 3 steps of facial care regime. And I admit, sometimes a little castration goes a long way.

So, what's your preference?