Personal Lolcows - Lolcows in your personal life.

[Adamska]

The stories about BJ are amazing. I can't belive that he was even able to get far enough into a student teaching program to be let near students with the way he acts though. My mom had to go through quite a bit of school before she started the program (It could vary from state or district of course)

He might have been able to squeeze by by mostly doing the non EDU courses. They don't really require you to interact with children, so maybe that's how he clung on for so long.

 

[yasscat]

Here's a little tide over tail for all those hungry kiwi's



B.J (accidentally) murders a little girl's pet butterfly.



So my mother is one of those people is like weirdly, super into butterflies, but like, only on a purely scientific level. She's not the kind of woman who collects glass butterflies and wears those hideous the mountain Caterpillar sweatshirts -no, that would be bearable at least. She's the kind of nut who gets out of her car in moving traffic to photograph moths, or will set up these strange blair-witch looking stick "habitats" to attract monarchs into our yard. She probably has more pictures of butterflies in her phone than there are species of butterflies in the world. She's just crazy for them. I love my mother. She's the bestest.

One of her great joys in life is hatching, raising, and releasing monarch butterflies with her third grade class. It's a pretty neat project. Each child gets a caterpillar to raise, and then when the butterflies have matured, the class marches to the park and has a releasing party. The kids just adore it.

Now, as part of B.J's student teaching program, he was supposed to plan and teach a lesson that could be integrated with a teacher's current curriculum. B. J wasn't into it. Write out a detailed lesson with activities, instruction time, and core learning? Nope. Not when there's WoW to be played. He didn't turn in the lesson. My mother should have failed him, but she felt bad (Mama! For shame! You know better!) and told him he could co-lead a science lab session with the school's science teacher, since that science teacher was also a participating in the Student Teacher education program. My mother didn't actually accompany them to the science lab. She had some kind of meeting, I don't remeber what and it's not important to the story, so whatever! Of course, had she attended the lesson, the INCIDENT would never have occurred.

The children brought their butterflies into the science lab for one final observation before the releasing ceremony. I don't know the exact specifics of what led up to this, but somehow B.J assumed control of the lesson and decided that the children should have an up close look at the wings of a butterfly. The science lab was equipped with one of those super nifty USB microscopes that could project the slide's images to a smartboard/ projector screen. So of course, instead of using one of the sample slides or to-scale models, B.J just had to get his hands on that super cool USB microscope. He took of of the LIVE BUTTERFLIES from a child and squished the poor thing between to slides. Guess what happens you press a live butterfly between two glass slides? Yup. You guessed it. They die. They super, super die.

The microscope's lenses was covered in smushed butterfly guts. Fortunately B.J is terrible at science and failed to turn the microscope's back light on, so the children were spared from seeing the butterfly goo projected all over the classroom. (the kids in the front could def see dead butterfly all flattened and mooshed between the slides, though) They did however, see a blurry mess of what they THOUGHT were butterfly guts, and began screaming.

The butterfly that B.J had murdered happened to belong to a sweet little girl I'll call Snow White, because of her super pale skin and cute bobbed hair. Snow White was a sensitive child who cried easily and had trouble making friends because she was so painfully shy. Poor little Snow White sobbed so hard over her murdered butterfly that she actually had to be sent home early. B.J, of course, denied played innocent and claimed no one had told him he couldn't use the live specimens under the microscope....

My mama requested B.J be removed from her classroom after this, but of course, there was no need. B.J managed to pull another royal fuck up before a second placement could even be found and got himself fired.



And that is the story of how B.J murdered a butterfly.

These stories are super hard for me to write because it's all second hand, but I'm trying my best :/

I'm not gonna lie, I get excited when I see you've replied to this thread. BJ is such a strange creature.

 

[Dio Brando]

These stowies are super hawd for me to wwite because it's all second hand, but I'm twying my best :/

ftfy. This is B.J. we're talking about after all

Keep up these glorious stories

 

[littlebiscuits]

The stories about BJ are amazing. I can't belive that he was even able to get far enough into a student teaching program to be let near students with the way he acts though. My mom had to go through quite a bit of school before she started the program (It could vary from state or district of course)

It was through a community college and I honestly think his professor just had no fucks to give about the people he put through to student teach.

 

[Adamska]

It was through a community college and I honestly think his professor just had no fucks to give about the people he put through to student teach.

Oh that explains it. He did all the build up work and held off on the EDU until the end combined with a somewhat generous program due to his brain problems most likely.

 

[Hummingbird]

I agree with the others and I look forward to hearing about the second fuck-up. I know this might be a bit of a request, but do you have a document of the BJ stories in one place?

As for Roger, I learned that he doesn't have autism, his brain just somehow managed to stop psychologically maturing (at best) at the age of 8. Thankfully, he's been a little better lately.

 

[littlebiscuits]

I agree with the others and I look forward to hearing about the second fuck-up. I know this might be a bit of a request, but do you have a document of the BJ stories in one place?

As for Roger, I learned that he doesn't have autism, his brain just somehow managed to stop psychologically maturing (at best) at the age of 8. Thankfully, he's been a little better lately.

I don't have a document, but I will make one. That seems like a good idea.

 

[yummy hand sanitizer]

Got thinking about another one the other day. Guy who was in one of my classes at college. Used to wear T-shirts with his name on them, usually those iron-on letters. He wore these shirts every day. He also liked to disrupt the class by asking completely irrelevant questions of the professor and going off on tangents when answering the professor's questions. I think the professor, who was usually very patient and understanding, eventually got him to drop the class. Sometimes I wonder whatever happened to him; I never saw him again after he got thrown out of that class.

 

[darkhorse816]

There are some subreddits that supply/foster lolcows.

One of them is Raised By Narcissists (I think they should change the name to "raised by toxicity" or something because some of these parents aren't necessarily narcissistic,--but they might have certain disorders that make them behave like that. Some users go ahead and give them an armchair diagnosis and say "they have NPD." I'm very careful with using that word, but my dad's mother displays actual narcissistic tendencies, which are depressing, but I'd never give her an armchair diagnosis of NPD. I haven't made a full post yet, though, and don't plan on doing so until after she dies). Some of the people work hard, and finally leave their toxic parents. They go on to live successful lives, where they don't use their upbringing or trauma as a crutch or excuse. Some of them post their own stories as advice. Others use it as a pity party. They either wallow in self-despair, diagnosis themselves with every single disorder ever (except narcissism), are "triggered" constantly, or they accuse their parents of being narcissists for asking them to do things they don't agree with (some overweight people will complain about their parents making them lose weight). It can turn into a hugbox, and sometimes, when someone offers constructive feedback, people can turn on one another.

It was through one poster, who posted a woe-is-me rant, blamed everything on her mother (who did sound abusive), and then lashed out at everyone (including mods) who gave her useful advice, like to get a job so she could move out and get an apartment (she explained that she couldn't and acted like certain jobs were beneath her), I found one of the most depressing subreddits ever: foreveralonewomen. Foreveraloners can be women too, and they have their own depressing subreddit. They call themselves unicorns. It's a neverending, enabling pity party. It's disgusting. And for some reason, I picture them all looking like Chris's current incarnation.

 

[drtoboggan]

I must know why BJ is a sex offender.

 

[TowinKarz]

Try as I might, I can think of any lolcow that I ever had to endure as a kid, which means, obviously, that I was the LOLcow, and I just haven't found the forum where they're posting about "whatever happened to that guy?"

The closest I ever got was a kid in my 10th grade class who had mild-to-medium autism (in retrospect) who they felt might be able to act normal enough to mainstream. They lasted a semester and then were never seen again because they'd slap their desk and start crying if the teacher didn't call on them for an answer to something. Yeah, that's all I got.

 

[Whatisgoingon]

It was through a community college and I honestly think his professor just had no fucks to give about the people he put through to student teach.

Hey, can you link me to the first story of BJ in this thread? He seems very entertaining, and I would like to read the other stories you have written about him.

 

[Cuck Norris]

Minor Jimbo update: He shaved his head and has decided to not renew his lease. He claims he's going to put his limited amount of possessions in storage and be homeless. This should be interesting.

 

[littlebiscuits]

Hey, can you link me to the first story of BJ in this thread? He seems very entertaining, and I would like to read the other stories you have written about him.

Let's see! This is the first one, which is actually about B.J's younger brother. They are a lolfamily. Lolcowism is a genetic trait.

Spoiler: Diver's Ed

I ended up sitting next to him during the district science fair. Every student in the district had a chance to compete, so it was a huge event. The Next Albert Einstein aka Bwenden, was not selected as a finalist and was having a tantrum off to the side. We were all sitting quietly waiting for the superintendent to announce the winner when all of a suddenly Alec let out a fart like a gunshot. The smell was gag inducing. All the kids around him got up and ran, laughing and screaming. Alone in the center of the room, Alec raised his hand and announced “Sorry I farted”. To this day, that phrase is sort of an in-joke among the people in my town.

In 6th grade, Alec became obsessed with the movie Dinosaur. On the Friday before Christmas break, his math class was going nuts with excitement. The math teacher was having trouble lining them up for dismissal and they were in danger of missing the bus. Alec tugged on her sleeve and asked, “Can I help silence the class with my dinosaur sound?”. Then, Alec bellowed “UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGUUUUUUUKKKKKKKKKKK” . The other students were speechless.
Another great Alec moment was right after September 11th. The town had a little memorial event (because we were so close to the city a lot of locals died in the attack) and all the children from his class presented little peace poems. His poem not only blamed Gannodorf for 9/11 but also suggested that he be allowed to patrol the streets at night with a “machine- laser gun” that instead of killing terrorists would make them into poops.

Alec and I were also in the same drivers ed car. Now, Alec had some sort of problem with his eyes where he only had peripheral vision. I believe that this sort of condition is easily (well easily but painfully) corrected by surgery, but his parents refused to admit that their little cherub was less than perfect. His eyesight did seriously impair his driving, because he couldn’t see anything to the right or left of him. Many a guard rail was assaulted by Alec’s spastic driving. Anyway, the driving lessons were pretty normal on the first few sessions. The only problem at first was that Alec was so fat that not all the driving students could fit in the backseat of the car. His enormous girth made it hard for him to breath I guess, so he constantly sounded like he was wheezing. It made the car fog up, but he freaked out at the very suggestion of opening a window. He was so sweaty and it was so tight in that backseat. I was constantly squished up against his salty sweaty body as he took his raspy darth vador breathes. Eventually we had to kick out a boy called Erik because there simply wasn’t enough room.

He was such an awful driver. He jerked the car around, forgot safety rules, but every student driver is allowed a few mistakes. However, his failure to distinguish right from left quickly became a problem. One morning Alec was jerking us through a quiet suburban neighborhood just a few blocks from the high school. The driving teacher instructed him to turn right when he came a yield sign about twenty feet away. Alec however, decided to turn left immediately into someone’s front yard. He plowed over a plastic birdbath before the driving instructed managed to step on the breaks (the car had a duel break system). My head slammed into the seat in front of me, and I heard the other passengers moan in semi-pain before the swearing started. The instructor, a delightfully crazy Albanian man, was so enraged I think he actually forgot how to speak English. He shouted an incomprehensible flurry of wrath while miming strangulation to Alec. Alec started blubbering “I didn’t do it! I DIDN’T DOOOO IT”.

“Well, who else did it you, dumb fuck?” snapped another passenger form the backseat.

In response Alec made a noise that was eerily reminiscent of his dinosaur bellow from so many years ago. Only this time it was broken by the occasional terrified sob. “UuuKah! UuuKah!UUUUuuKAHUUUuuKah!” And like the dinosaur bellow, it had the same silencing effect.
“Ok.” Said the driving instructor, “Students, get out of car. No one has seen. We fix bath. Ok ?”

No one moved. “Now! Fix bath!” I saw the anger rising in him again so I quickly scrambled out of the car with the other passengers. The bird bath had broken into two pieces, but I could see that it actually was fixable. All we had to do was balance it just right, and no one would ever have to find out. We pulled the bath out from under the car, and after a few minutes of careful adjustment and Albanian swear words, the bird bath was restored. We re-entered the car. Alec got back behind the wheel and just as our crazy Albanian was saying, “Reversing the car now. Go slow,” Alec slammed on the gas petal and lurched us forward into the bird bath once again. My head met the seat in front of me once again, but much harder this time. The driving instructor had exploded once more into fits of Albanian rage. He leaped out of the car and we followed suit. The bird bath was utterly destroyed. We stood around the carnage in silence. Alec bent down pick up one of the largest pieces of plaster. I suppose he thought he would just reconstruct the dozens of tiny pieces and be done with it. “You stop! Idiot boy! exceptional individual! Get in car, all you. I drive home,” shouted the instructor.

“But it’s my turn!” whined Alec.
“Shut up! No talk! Anyone!” The instructor held open the passenger seat door. Alec and the other student got in but he stopped me. “You are shotgun” In all the confusion I didn’t immediately associate that phrase with car seating and for a split second I thought he meant for me to shoot Alec. I got into the car while Alec moaned, “It’s not faaair! She’s taking my turnnnn! She’s taking it! Uuuuuuuuuuuuguk!”
“No talk! Shut up! Shut up!”

After that, Alec was banned from drivers Ed and Erik rejoined the car. I’ve driving past the bird bath house since. The bath is now gone and has never been replaced. I don’t think the bath owner’s ever figured out what happened that day.

Spoiler: First (and best) B.J story

First of all, Brendan insisted on being called B.J. ]Not a great nick name, as far as those things are concerned, but he insisted on it because he couldn’t actually pronounce his own name. Even in twelfth grade, he was still calling himself “Bwenden” because he couldn’t say his “R’s”. I first met B.J when we were in 5th grade. My school system was quite large, and consisted of several elementary schools feeding into two middle schools and finally one high school. I went to a different school than him for 5th grade, but he was a student in the class that my mother taught, so I ended up having a lot of contact with him.
It’s actually kind of a sad story, B.J probably would have been completely normal if it weren’t for his batshit insane father. On the first day of school B.J’s dad walked into the classroom and immediately began ripping down posters that he felt were distracting because “B.J was often upset by bright colors and loud sounds”. Posters, as you all well know because you are not completely retarded, do not make sound and bright colors are not frightening. Maybe, maybe you could justify rearranging a classroom to suit a child’s needs if the student had autism or some sort of visual processing disorder, but B.J was completely fine.
B.J’s father had also convinced him that he was a genius. He wouldn’t allow the kid to go to speech therapy even though he desperately needed it. He insisted that B.J be put in the gifted and talented program even though B.J was pretty below average in all subjects except reading. He couldn’t really handle the extra work load and it did hurt him academically.

One day my mom was supervising the students in the school library when she noticed B.J writing in one of the books. It was a picture book biography of Albert Einstein. In the 2 glossy blank pages at the end of the book, B.J had written, “Brendan (last name) is considered by most to be the next Albert Einstein. He began displaying genius as soon as he was born and has the highest intelligence of anyone ever recorded. Look for books about Brendan at the next (The school’s name) book fair”
For his next book report, he wrote something titled, “Brendan (last name): The next Albert Einstein. By B.J (last name).” He did a book report on a biography about himself that didn’t exist. My mother didn’t quite know what to do, so she had him evaluated by the school shrink. The kid obliviously needed serious help but his father refused to acknowledge that anything was wrong. In fact, he wanted to sue the school for suggesting that his child might need psychological help.
Shortly after that, B.J started turning homework and quizzes with the moniker, “B.J a.k.a The Next Albert Einstein”. The whole situation came to a head when my mom wanted to show a movie to the class around Martin Luther King Jr. day. But B.J wouldn’t have it. He raised his hand and said, “I do not want to see this movie. I would like to watch the hobbit. The movie is available in the school libwawee. I will watch the class while you go went it.” My mom told him in the nicest, teachery-est way possible to shut the fuck up and deal with it. B.J screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to throw his desk at her. Being a chubby weakling, he only managed to knock it over on another kid’s foot. This kid, who later turned out to be pretty awesome, had had enough of B.J’s shit and punched him in the eye. Both kids got in trouble but B.J actually got suspended for the rest of the week.

The only other childhood story that I know about B.J is when he moved house in 8th grade. His mom took him to a church closer to their new neighborhood and then second they walked through the door he screamed “GOD DOES NOT LIVE HEWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” .

I didn’t see B.J again till high school but by then he had developed a reputation for being a complete psycho. His dad had gotten arrested for shitting in the toy isle in a Kmart, so B.J was living with his equally crazy mother. B.J was in my English class for 11th grade.
Here’s really where things get interesting. For some odd reason my English class had 16 girls in it and only 2 boys. Immediately, 7 kids dropped the class because it was an A.P writing class that conflicted with a different A.P science class. After the mini exodus, B.J remained the only male and seemed to be quite pleased about this.
For our first assignment we had a write a short creative piece on whatever subject we liked. B.J. instantly raised his hand and said in this strangely melodic voice, “Yes, and awe we going to be leawning to white ewwotica or pownogwaaphic fiction?”
The poor teacher looked like she was going to shit a brick. “This is a high school English class.” She reminded him. “Ohh I weally want to white ewwotic fiction” He looked genuinely sad.
After about ten minutes of chewing loudly on his pencil he made a loud whining noise and withdrew his head into his sweatshirt. His arms followed and he pulled the fabric over his knees. He made this little egg pose whenever the teacher asked him to complete an in class assignment or turn in homework. He never spoke or moved like this, no matter what anyone did. It was really really strange.
The in addition to formal academic assignments (of which B.J failed to complete even one), the teacher had us spend each Friday reading our own creative pieces and receiving criticism from our classmates. B.J spent each and every class writing furiously in a marble notebook until the bell rang. Finally at the end of the week we would all be treated to the fruits of his labors. That first Friday I honestly had no idea what to expect. He opened up his marble notebook and said, “I know girls don’t play video games but do any of you know what the Wowuld of Wawwcwaft is?” I couldn’t help it. I had to giggle, just a little bit. He glared at me and explained that he had written a WoW fanfic based on real life people and what they would be like if they were WoW characters. Apparently B.J had developed a serious crush on one of the really pretty girls in our class, named Danielle. “Dani” was cast the heroic Prince Bwenden’s strong, sexy, dark elf companion who was madly in love with him but he was too noble to be tempted by her advances. He read the story in this funny fake deep voice, with lots of embellishes and sound effects. He was so into it, he didn’t notice that the class was shaking with laughter. At the end of the chapter he slammed the book down and retreated into his egg pose.

It was like that every Friday. The teacher had him purposefully go last so that everyone could storm out as soon as the bell rang so that we could hide our laughter. Meanwhile, B.J was beginning to make the moves on Dani. Dani was a nice girl, definitely beautiful and she did not like being a part of B.J’s creepy tale. He started leaving her facebook messages that at first were pretty tame, things like “how did you like my story?” “How are you today?” “What is your cat’s name?”. Dani always responded politely and we thought that was that. He sent her a few amorous messages, my favorite being one about how she could depend on him to be a nice guy because he read Chicken Soup for the soul books.

Things took a turn for the weird when the fanfic version of Dani got the valiant prince Bwenden drunk and tried to seduce him. B.J embellished the story with a lot of sound effects, a cringe- inducing falsetto voice for Dani. The teacher finally asked him to stop as dark elf Dani began rubbing her wet tits on valiant prince Bwendens lips. B.J whined and protested and eventually retreated into his egg pose. After class I heard her comforting actual Dani and told her that she contacted the school psychologist about B.J.

But of course the fun didn’t stop there. The teacher naturally banned him from continuing his story if it was going to contain sexually explicated material, especially if it involved actual students. The next Friday he was so angry, he was taking long exaggerated breaths and kept his hood up over. I imagine that he though he looked pretty cool. When it came time for him to present, he stood up and started playing the air guitar. He then howled, what I suppose he though was some sort of Death metal song, but was just another opportunity for us to hear what Elmer Fudd would have sounded like had he done meth. People in other classrooms thought that someone was hurt so they came running. It was pretty hilarious.

A few weeks later Dani presented a story in which she recounted a memory about the day she peed herself after being hit in the crotch with a volley ball. Everyone was giggling and having a good time until B.J jumped up and strolled over to the door. He made no attempt to conceal his quite pronounced boner. We burst out laughing. “It’s not funny.” He said. “I can’t help it. This is natuwal.” He wasn’t embarrassed at all. The most I could say is that he was irritated that we were…laughing at his boner. He excused himself to the bathroom, which brought more shrieks of laughter.

Pretty soon after the teacher had him kicked out of the class, which was probably the right thing to do.

Spoiler: B.J. 's Dad (short)

Oh! Another thing I just remembered about B.J and Alec's father. I actually saw a lot of him because B.J, Alec and I were Boys and in Girls Club together. (For those who don't know what that is, its a national organization where kids with working parents can go after school if they don't have anyone to look after them. Kids play sports or take little art classes and things like that. It's great.) But anyway, my Mom was late to pick me up one day so B.J/Alec's father came up to me and started chatting. I was reading a book (a book about Marie Antoinette's childhood and young teen years) and he sat down next to me and started telling me all about Louis XIV's penis and how it had a deformity so he couldn't please his wife sexually. Like, he just jumped right to that topic out of almost nowhere. I was eight. It was weird, but oddly I wasn't at all disturbed or bothered by it. I wasn't until years later that I was like, that's kind of a fucked up thing to talk to a little girl about.

Spoiler: A childhood B.J story

Anyway, as I've mentioned before, B.J had my mom for a teacher when he was a child. My mom's classroom was kind of old fashioned, you know, green chalk -board, students kept their books in a cubby under their desks, wooden floors and walls, separate room for shoes and coats (I kind of miss that style now that I think of it...). And it had a little bathroom just off of the coat room. It was a really, really tiny bathroom. The toilet was weirdly low to the ground too, so an adult really couldn't use it, and it was small. There was a sink too, but it was across from the toilet, so whoever was sitting on the toilet had the sink basically in their lap.
Now, B.J was not impressed with the bathroom situation. For one thing, he was so fat that he could barely fit in it. But he also didn't like to touch the flusher. Germs, I guess. Anyway, kids started complaining to my mom that something odd was happening in the bathroom. There were shoe marks on the toilet seat, and weird yellow stains all over the sink. Also, the bathroom and neighboring coat room had begun to smell like piss.
After several unsuccessful "honesty" campaigns to get the culprit to confess, my mom decided the best thing to do was catch the perp in the act. The next time it happened, she would ask all the children to take their shoes off and she would compare the foot prints. However, she never got the chance.
One morning, B.J returned from the bathroom soaking wet. Concerned that something might have flooded, my mom asked B.J what happened. He nonchalantly answered that the sink had sprayed him and that everything was fine. My mom didn't believe him. She went into the bathroom to have a look and what she found was...astonishing. Not only were there foot prints on the toilet seat, there was also a turd on the floor. The wall next to the sink was drenched in urine.
Now, it's hard to know what really happened in the bathroom that day. B.J confessed that for the past few weeks he had taken to standing on the toilet seat and pissing into the sink from afar. Apparently he had...lost his footing and slipped...and either dislodged the turd from the toilet or shat on the floor? It's impossible to really know. Oh and was B.J ashamed of any of this? No. Not at all. In fact he blamed the whole thing on my mom, and suggested that to prevent future accidents, she clean the toilet seat for him before he enter and also, FLUSH THE GODDAMN TOILET FOR HIM WHEN HE WAS DONE. (He was ten). He then suggested that perhaps his mother should be called in after every poo, so that SHE could clean the toilet and flush it for him.

 

[littlebiscuits]

B.J gets fired.

I've been itching with excitement to tell the story of how B.J got dismissed from his student teacher position because it is just SO WEIRD.

So, B.J had been sitting in the corner reading goosebumps books working at the school for about a week and a half (minus several days when he was sent home early) when he had a chance run in with his former 5th grade teacher. (for those of you who have lost count, my Mama was his 4th grade teacher, and the class she's teaching now is 3d grade. Sorry, I know it's getting confusing.) B.J HATED his 5th grade teacher. Hated her. Hated her because she was a hard ass and didn't put up with his shit, not even for a minute. It was WWIII in there, so bad that it became a huge distraction to the other kids because they couldn't get through a lesson without B.J throwing a tantrum.
Now, I can't imagine that Mrs. HardAss was particularly thrilled to see B.J either, but at least she didn't lunge at him and hiss, the way he did when he saw her approaching from down the corridor. He ran towards her, but not the normal way you or I might run. He kind of...flapped his arms up and down, giving the children on either side of him an aromatic demonstration of what happens when a sweaty autist doesn't wear deodorant after a lifetime of not showering. Mrs. HardAss ducked, ready to dart into the nearest doorway should he attack, but she needn't have worried. B.J ran out of breath long before he reach the end of the hall, wheezing, "Mwiss HawdAss! We finally meet again."
Oh, if only I had been a (butter) fly on the wall. But I was not, as so I don't know the exact details of what I assume was an epic verbal throwdown, but I do know that it resulted in B.J being sent to the principal's office and dismissed from school early. At age 20.

The next morning Mrs. Hardass entered her classroom only to discover that it had been absolutely trashed. The cubby room was ransacked, several of the kid's desks were knocked over, contents strewn about the room. The potted plants were smashed. Everything on Mrs. Hardass's desk had been swept off and broken. The chalkboard was COVERED in drawings of her being raped and beaten by various fantasy creatures. The only things that were undisturbed were the books and the computer corner.

There is something else to remeber about this: This was a planned sperg-out. He had to first 1. Wake up early enough to enter the school at the same time as the morning janitors. 2. Make up a convincing enough lie for them to let him in (he DID technically have an authorization badge.)3. Wait for them to leave the 5th grade wing long enough for him to have his little shit fit 4. Take the time to draw detailed pictures on the blackboard, going so far as to borrow colored chalk from the previously ransacked art supply cart. 5. Close the lights, close the door, leave and pretend that nothing had happened.

Before you kiwi's start thinking B.J capable of high thought and skilled planning, there is something else you should know: the school had security cameras. And B.J knew about these cameras. He had made several odd comments about wishing he had access to the tapes and how lucky security guards are.
And....it's almost 3:30 and I am basically falling asleep. I will post THE CONFRONTATION in the morning.

 

[Ho Mo for Women]

There is something else to remeber about this: This was a planned sperg-out. He had to first 1. Wake up early enough to enter the school at the same time as the morning janitors. 2. Make up a convincing enough lie for them to let him in (he DID technically have an authorization badge.)3. Wait for them to leave the 5th grade wing long enough for him to have his little shit fit 4. Take the time to draw detailed pictures on the blackboard, going so far as to borrow colored chalk from the previously ransacked art supply cart. 5. Close the lights, close the door, leave and pretend that nothing had happened.

I love it when lolcows actually put time and effort into their sperg-outs; it's always so much more entertaining.

 

[littlebiscuits]

B.J gets fired part 2!!!!!!

It took the school about 4 seconds to figure out who the culprit was. I mean, even without security footage, I think that was pretty obvious. Before the children even arrived, B.J was called into the principals office. By the way, I'd like to point out that this is the 4th time a 20 year old was sent to an elementary school's principal for dispensary reasons. Just a fun little counter for everyone.
The principal of the school immigrated from Nigeria when she was a young girl, and speaks with a very slight accent. However, due to a lifetime of speaking with and educating children, she also tends to speak very slowly. B.J always claimed he couldn't understand a word she was saying, but I feel that this is impossible.
As soon as B.J entered the principal's office, he immediately slumped into a chair and assumed egg pose. The principal asked him what had possessed him to do such a horrible thing. B.J remained silent. She repeated the question, but B.J was in full egg mode now, and nothing could rouse him. Principal shrugs to herself and says, out loud, "Well fine. I'll just call the police and have them come collect you for questioning. It's not my job to interview criminals."
The egg hatched, and B.J was born once again into this world. His fat turtle head emerged from his hoodie and he started in horror at the principal.

"But I didn't do anything! I wasn't even thewe!"
"But of course you were. We have footage of you. It could have been no one else."
"It isn't faiwr! She's a bitch! She's tewible to childwen and should be fiwred!"
"So you admit that you have committed the crime."
"No I --" ah, but he had backed himself into a corner. There was no denying it now.
B.J started to cry. The principal pushed a tissue box towards him, which he snatched. He then pulled several tissues out at once, and stuffed them behind the lenses of his glasses, so that the principal could no longer see his eyes.
The prinipal explained that the school would be pressing charges, and that he would likely be forced to pay for the damages that he caused. B.J continued to weep behind his tissue glasses, occasionally stuffing more tissues as needed.


Of course B.J was arrested, but the school agreed to drop the charges IF B.J would write a letter of apology and pay for the thousands of dollars of damages he caused (he ruined a smart-board and the teacher's macbook. That alone....). At this time, B.J has done neither, and will likely be facing criminal charges. Of course, he's also facing unrelated sex offense charges too...

 

[MysticMisty]

Of course, he's also facing unrelated sex offense charges too...

Please get to that soon, these stories are amazing.

 

[ActualKiwi]

Please get to that soon, these stories are amazing.

Agweed, I'm suwe the stowy of how a lolcow went fwom spewg to full on sexual offendew chawges will be tewwific.

 

[Pinball Lizard]

What does B.J.'s voice sound like, biscuits? I keep reading him in a screechy spoiled brat voice, like, I dunno, that evil dummy guy from Peewee's Playhouse.