Personal Lolcows - Lolcows in your personal life.

Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.

I really can't help but read these to myself in Homestar Runner's voice. Thank you so much for sharing and I can't wait for more.

(and I don't think I like strawberry cheesecake any more)
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.
Holy shit.
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.
God bless your mother for having to put up with that horror.
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.
Oh, jeez. This is like a horrifying TV show. Can't wait for the next episode.

Double post for another personal lolcow. So, it appears that I may have unintentionally drawn the ire of Kent. For those who don't follow the Loveshy board, Kent is a YouTube ranter who dresses like an eight-year-old and rambles on about how women won't give him "the time of the day." A couple months ago, he posted a video that was, for all intents and purposes, a suicide note. I, along with other regulars of the thread, became concerned. So, I called his local police department. I didn't get anybody, and didn't leave a message, but I figured that it was the right thing to do to at least attempt to get some sort of help to him. Later on, Kent addressed an unknown individual in one of his videos, accusing the person of "jeopardizing" him, "ruining" him, and "preventing [him] from getting where [he] want(s) to get with women." Nobody knew who the fuck he was talking about, and we all assumed it was some random troll. Kent only mentioned it twice, and then it was quickly forgotten. Fast-forward to yesterday, and a user who's all but confirmed to be Kent shows up on the Farms. I engage him in conversation, in an attempt to determine if it's really him or not. Among other things, he "speculates" that I was the anonymous person Kent addressed in the videos (at first, he spoke as though he were Kent, but then he switched to third-person, and attempted to deny that he was Kent). So, yeah, nothing's confirmed, but it's pretty likely that I managed to piss off a lolcow enough for them to address it on YouTube without ever even having any contact with him.
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.
Wow, that was fucked. B.J was really like this huh? Why in hell would he want to even become a teacher anyways if he's just going to be a moron and do nothing but read? Was he under the delusion that Elementary teachers got to do nothing while they let the kids work out of workbooks or play all the live long day?
 
Wow, that was fucked. B.J was really like this huh? Why in hell would he want to even become a teacher anyways if he's just going to be a moron and do nothing but read? Was he under the delusion that Elementary teachers got to do nothing while they let the kids work out of workbooks or play all the live long day?

He probably thought that it was an easy job. That and he thinks he's a super genius due to shit parenting.

All I can say is that in my college, this would've been his first and only time he'd be allowed around children in a classroom. Why? Because shit like this would get him banned from the school right quick, and it'd be basically impossible for him to try again after the word of how a raging asshole who might punch children leaks around the local area. Not only that, but if he does indeed have a criminal record, it becomes far harder to get into a school.
 
Me and some mates are affiliated with this guy on Steam who's currently undergoing the alias '123FUCKYOUSTREET'.

123FUCKYOUSTREET is an eighteen year-old professional Call of Duty player who smokes bongs, shrooms, weed and cakes whilst constantly getting his dick sucked by his girl. He has no bed time and he also somehow lives off of $200 a month from dealing weed (tbh I want to know where he buys food from and whom he's renting from, I also want to know how he saves on bills).
Watch out guys, he's 18.

I don't have all of the chat logs steadily stored, some are lost, but this particular eighteen year old is quite the dopey cunt when it comes to getting baited and tricked. One time me and two other mates were in a group chat and one of them was giving him a hard time, so me and the other told him we were members of Anonymous and that we would teach him how to hack our mate.

spoiler alert, it was: *CloudFlare doesn't appreciate me typing the command for deleting system32.*

He actually tried to do it, but due to unforeseen consequences (he's using his mum's computer, so no administrator privileges), he wasn't able to do it. We also pretended to hack each other while we were LANing and messing with our 18 year-old comrade, he fell for it. Ever since that day, he's tried impersonating the specific mate who terrorised him while we 'hacked' him and has stated he hates him, he's an enemy and that he wants him dead. I mentioned I knew him IRL, and he said if I murdered him he would give me Black Ops 3.

18.

Here's some samples of his sheer awesomeness (chatlogs may look like he's responding to no one, I usually voice chat with him but recently his microphone broke due to his younger brother (oh wait, he doesn't live with his family, so his very close friend that buys weed from him... that he no longer is friends with despite associating the term 'brother' with him?).

123FUCKYOUSTREET: i have mods SO XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ahh my girlfrined is sitting on my dick
123FUCKYOUSTREET: girlfreinds are the best
123FUCKYOUSTREET: they suck your dick
123FUCKYOUSTREET: like shes doing it right now
123FUCKYOUSTREET: so
123FUCKYOUSTREET: u have a girlfreind that u fuck mate
123FUCKYOUSTREET: mines samsung
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i got like 1.000.000 on my phone
123FUCKYOUSTREET: hey man im gonna eat my dinner i made
123FUCKYOUSTREET: so im not gonna be on

Notice how he needs to elaborate that it's dinner that he made? Clearly, this kid's serious business.

123FUCKYOUSTREET: oh fuck yea this weed is so nice
123FUCKYOUSTREET: oh
123FUCKYOUSTREET: no
123FUCKYOUSTREET: fuck
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im seeing things wtf

I can't seem to find the original chatlog, but whilst his name was 'WEEDWEEDWEED,' he explained to me and some mates about what marijuana does to you, since we'd never tried it before. He reckons that at first, it feels normal but then you start to see different colours and see things that aren't really there such as, I quote, "a flying dick with a head."

123FUCKYOUSTREET: well shes hot skinny nice ass tits and pussy
123FUCKYOUSTREET: when i get up she sucks my cock
123FUCKYOUSTREET: yea
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well i fuck her in the pussy the ass and yea

123FUCKYOUSTREET: XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ;D WTF
123FUCKYOUSTREET: XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: IM PLAYING CHARLIE CHARLIE GAME
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well u get peice of paper and write yes no yes no put a pencil in the middle another on top and go charlie charlie are u here
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and it moves
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its a spirit game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it like a ouija board
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok i play charlie game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok mate im saying it
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it moved
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: um ok im gonna ask it charlie charlie am i gonna die
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it said yes
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtfr
123FUCKYOUSTREET: na fuck this game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its is fucking creepy
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok im gonna sk it one more thing
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i will say charlie charlie is [DN] Google going to die
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it said yes it said u goin
123FUCKYOUSTREET: NA IM BURNING THIS SHIT
123FUCKYOUSTREET: FUCK THIS

123FUCKYOUSTREET: fuck it
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im faze rains freind ive got 40 kills with out dying
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i will fucking mess u up in black ops 2 but im banned
123FUCKYOUSTREET: vac ban
123FUCKYOUSTREET: no
123FUCKYOUSTREET: when im at the screen when i get in i press play and says vac ban u can not play untill 9999/9/9999
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and i cant play zombies too
123FUCKYOUSTREET: says same thing

Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: dude fucking answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: can u fucking answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
Google翻訳: why?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: just answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: answer
Google翻訳: only if you use your microphone
123FUCKYOUSTREET: omg for fuck sakes
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i dont have a microphone it FUCKING BROKE
Google翻訳: i don't believe you, lol
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ARE U THAT FUCKING DUMB
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: NOW FUCKING ANSWER
Google翻訳: why do you want to voice chat with me then?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: OK FUCK U
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
123FUCKYOUSTREET is now Offline.

*avatar missing* ^6`^5\^7/^2'^8 17 May @ 9:22pm
lol yo are a fag honna get ANONYMOUS on me LMAO AND TURN MY POWER OFF OHHH NO DEAR GOD IM SCARED PLEASE HELP ME HAHAHAHAH


[EZFC]Mudfart©
13 Apr @ 12:14am
Pls don't unfriend me ;~;


123FUCKYOUSTREET
25 Oct, 2014 @ 1:17am
shut the fuck up


123FUCKYOUSTREET
25 Oct, 2014 @ 1:16am
faze shut the fuck up u cock head


The Pope of Dope
24 Oct, 2014 @ 11:52pm
Is it because your a fucking jew?


123FUCKYOUSTREET
24 Oct, 2014 @ 11:36pm
no


The Pope of Dope
24 Oct, 2014 @ 6:06pm
please sign this petition https://www.change.org/p/jews-to-apologise-for-the-death-of-jesus


123FUCKYOUSTREET
23 Aug, 2014 @ 4:06pm
SOAP BEAR SHUT THE FUCK UP U HUGE FUCKING CLOW FACE CUNT GO SUCK A COCK U MOTHERFUCKER


123FUCKYOUSTREET
17 Nov, 2013 @ 2:01am
fuck u

Oh, and another mate is also sweetheart sagaing him. Despite 123FUCKYOUSTREET: im not fucking gay, his new sweetheart is using a male name as his alias and has quite explicitly been stated to be a male previously.

Apologies if this post is a bit much, lol.

EDIT:
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ive only done weed cocane bong shrooms cake lolipops that are messed up and yea
123FUCKYOUSTREET: AHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
123FUCKYOUSTREET: SORRY JUST THE WEED
123FUCKYOUSTREET: haha
123FUCKYOUSTREET: eh
123FUCKYOUSTREET: :biggrin:
Hey @Melchett, can you tell me what the fuck lollipops are?
 
Last edited:
Me and some mates are affiliated with this guy on Steam who's currently undergoing the alias '123FUCKYOUSTREET'.

123FUCKYOUSTREET is an eighteen year-old professional Call of Duty player who smokes bongs, shrooms, weed and cakes whilst constantly getting his dick sucked by his girl. He has no bed time and he also somehow lives off of $200 a month from dealing weed (tbh I want to know where he buys food from and whom he's renting from, I also want to know how he saves on bills).
Watch out guys, he's 18.

I don't have all of the chat logs steadily stored, some are lost, but this particular eighteen year old is quite the dopey cunt when it comes to getting baited and tricked. One time me and two other mates were in a group chat and one of them was giving him a hard time, so me and the other told him we were members of Anonymous and that we would teach him how to hack our mate.

spoiler alert, it was: *CloudFlare doesn't appreciate me typing the command for deleting system32.*

He actually tried to do it, but due to unforeseen consequences (he's using his mum's computer, so no administrator privileges), he wasn't able to do it. We also pretended to hack each other while we were LANing and messing with our 18 year-old comrade, he fell for it. Ever since that day, he's tried impersonating the specific mate who terrorised him while we 'hacked' him and has stated he hates him, he's an enemy and that he wants him dead. I mentioned I knew him IRL, and he said if I murdered him he would give me Black Ops 3.

18.

Here's some samples of his sheer awesomeness (chatlogs may look like he's responding to no one, I usually voice chat with him but recently his microphone broke due to his younger brother (oh wait, he doesn't live with his family, so his very close friend that buys weed from him... that he no longer is friends with despite associating the term 'brother' with him?).

123FUCKYOUSTREET: i have mods SO XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ahh my girlfrined is sitting on my dick
123FUCKYOUSTREET: girlfreinds are the best
123FUCKYOUSTREET: they suck your dick
123FUCKYOUSTREET: like shes doing it right now
123FUCKYOUSTREET: so
123FUCKYOUSTREET: u have a girlfreind that u fuck mate
123FUCKYOUSTREET: mines samsung
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i got like 1.000.000 on my phone
123FUCKYOUSTREET: hey man im gonna eat my dinner i made
123FUCKYOUSTREET: so im not gonna be on

Notice how he needs to elaborate that it's dinner that he made? Clearly, this kid's serious business.

123FUCKYOUSTREET: oh fuck yea this weed is so nice
123FUCKYOUSTREET: oh
123FUCKYOUSTREET: no
123FUCKYOUSTREET: fuck
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im seeing things wtf

I can't seem to find the original chatlog, but whilst his name was 'WEEDWEEDWEED,' he explained to me and some mates about what marijuana does to you, since we'd never tried it before. He reckons that at first, it feels normal but then you start to see different colours and see things that aren't really there such as, I quote, "a flying dick with a head."

123FUCKYOUSTREET: well shes hot skinny nice ass tits and pussy
123FUCKYOUSTREET: when i get up she sucks my cock
123FUCKYOUSTREET: yea
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well i fuck her in the pussy the ass and yea

123FUCKYOUSTREET: XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ;D WTF
123FUCKYOUSTREET: XD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: IM PLAYING CHARLIE CHARLIE GAME
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well u get peice of paper and write yes no yes no put a pencil in the middle another on top and go charlie charlie are u here
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and it moves
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its a spirit game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it like a ouija board
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok i play charlie game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok mate im saying it
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it moved
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: um ok im gonna ask it charlie charlie am i gonna die
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok wtf
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it said yes
123FUCKYOUSTREET: wtfr
123FUCKYOUSTREET: na fuck this game
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its is fucking creepy
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ok im gonna sk it one more thing
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i will say charlie charlie is [DN] Google going to die
123FUCKYOUSTREET: it said yes it said u goin
123FUCKYOUSTREET: NA IM BURNING THIS SHIT
123FUCKYOUSTREET: FUCK THIS

123FUCKYOUSTREET: fuck it
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im faze rains freind ive got 40 kills with out dying
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i will fucking mess u up in black ops 2 but im banned
123FUCKYOUSTREET: vac ban
123FUCKYOUSTREET: no
123FUCKYOUSTREET: when im at the screen when i get in i press play and says vac ban u can not play untill 9999/9/9999
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and i cant play zombies too
123FUCKYOUSTREET: says same thing

Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: dude fucking answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: can u fucking answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
Google翻訳: why?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: just answer
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: answer
Google翻訳: only if you use your microphone
123FUCKYOUSTREET: omg for fuck sakes
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i dont have a microphone it FUCKING BROKE
Google翻訳: i don't believe you, lol
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ARE U THAT FUCKING DUMB
Call from 123FUCKYOUSTREET started.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: NOW FUCKING ANSWER
Google翻訳: why do you want to voice chat with me then?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: OK FUCK U
Call with 123FUCKYOUSTREET ended.
123FUCKYOUSTREET is now Offline.

*avatar missing* ^6`^5\^7/^2'^8 17 May @ 9:22pm
lol yo are a fag honna get ANONYMOUS on me LMAO AND TURN MY POWER OFF OHHH NO DEAR GOD IM SCARED PLEASE HELP ME HAHAHAHAH


[EZFC]Mudfart©
13 Apr @ 12:14am
Pls don't unfriend me ;~;


123FUCKYOUSTREET
25 Oct, 2014 @ 1:17am
shut the fuck up


123FUCKYOUSTREET
25 Oct, 2014 @ 1:16am
faze shut the fuck up u cock head


The Pope of Dope
24 Oct, 2014 @ 11:52pm
Is it because your a fucking jew?


123FUCKYOUSTREET
24 Oct, 2014 @ 11:36pm
no


The Pope of Dope
24 Oct, 2014 @ 6:06pm
please sign this petition https://www.change.org/p/jews-to-apologise-for-the-death-of-jesus


123FUCKYOUSTREET
23 Aug, 2014 @ 4:06pm
SOAP BEAR SHUT THE FUCK UP U HUGE FUCKING CLOW FACE CUNT GO SUCK A COCK U MOTHERFUCKER


123FUCKYOUSTREET
17 Nov, 2013 @ 2:01am
fuck u

Oh, and another mate is also sweetheart sagaing him. Despite 123FUCKYOUSTREET: im not fucking gay, his new sweetheart is using a male name as his alias and has quite explicitly been stated to be a male previously.

Apologies if this post is a bit much, lol.

EDIT:
123FUCKYOUSTREET: ive only done weed cocane bong shrooms cake lolipops that are messed up and yea
123FUCKYOUSTREET: AHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
123FUCKYOUSTREET: SORRY JUST THE WEED
123FUCKYOUSTREET: haha
123FUCKYOUSTREET: eh
123FUCKYOUSTREET: :biggrin:
Hey @Melchett, can you tell me what the fuck lollipops are?
Huh, looks like Jace was real after all.
 
I asked about his time when he was associated with the infamous collective of hackers known as Anonymous.
White guy.: hey dude
White guy.: are you a member of anonymous?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: use to
White guy.: use to?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i dont anymore
White guy.: why not?
123FUCKYOUSTREET is now Online.
White guy.: what happened?
123FUCKYOUSTREET is now Online.
White guy.: why are you no longer a member of anonymous?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: because i was hacking a system of theres
White guy.: oh?
White guy.: care to go into more detail?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i into more but they caught me
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and deleted me from the anonymous group
White guy.: what system were you hacking? why were you hacking it and how were you doing so?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im not telling
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its secret
123FUCKYOUSTREET: and i swear to never tell it to no one
White guy.: but you've already been caught
White guy.: it doesn't matter now
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well
White guy.: yes?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: i did caught a file they didnt get from me
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its a file that can hack anyones computer and shut down for 5 years
White guy.: oh? how does it work?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its somthing to important to me and my freinds
123FUCKYOUSTREET: there hackers
123FUCKYOUSTREET: they can controll computers put virus stuff in there computer of system wifi
White guy.: how does it work?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: its very and i mean VERY SIMPLE
White guy.: explain
123FUCKYOUSTREET: OH
White guy.: oh?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: well its a viirus that contains hacks that combined into 1
White guy.: yeah? you just described what it is, you haven't told me how it works.
123FUCKYOUSTREET: gtg
White guy.: lol, gtg? or "i fucked up homie"?
White guy.: xDDD
123FUCKYOUSTREET: no i have to go dude
White guy.: why?
123FUCKYOUSTREET: im playing
White guy.: so, you don't have to go.... you just got caught out and now you need an excuse to stop talking
White guy.: it's ok dude
White guy.: we all make mistakes sometimes
 
I might have a lolcow on my dorm floor. This is the tale of Fappy, the Mass Debater.
So, my buddy Zed is roomates with this guy. First day of college, the two meet, Fappy seems like kind of a sperg, but not too bad.
One day later Zed comes into the lounge and says "I fucking hate my roomate"
Zed woke up that morning to the lovely sight of Fappy cranking his shaft.
While stairing at Zed.
Zed asked him not to jack off in their room.
Fappy ignores this and continues to come into the room, drop his pants, and wack off while Zed is trying to sleep/doing homework/wakingup.
Zed is currently trying to get moved to a different room, and not finding much success. He's taken to sleeping on the floor in other people's rooms or in the floor lounge just so he don't have to share a room with a creepy compulsive masterbator.
 
I might have a lolcow on my dorm floor. This is the tale of Fappy, the Mass Debater.
So, my buddy Zed is roomates with this guy. First day of college, the two meet, Fappy seems like kind of a sperg, but not too bad.
One day later Zed comes into the lounge and says "I fucking hate my roomate"
Zed woke up that morning to the lovely sight of Fappy cranking his shaft.
While stairing at Zed.
Zed asked him not to jack off in their room.
Fappy ignores this and continues to come into the room, drop his pants, and wack off while Zed is trying to sleep/doing homework/wakingup.

This is when you turn your webcam to face him, and stream it to the school and the world.
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.
Pleeeeaaaaassseeee don't keep us in suspense!!! We wanna know what happened on B.J.'s last day, and why he's a sex offender. Pretty please? With whipped cream and a cherry on top?
 
  • Agree
Reactions: yasscat
Pleeeeaaaaassseeee don't keep us in suspense!!! We wanna know what happened on B.J.'s last day, and why he's a sex offender. Pretty please? With whipped cream and a cherry on top?


Let me direct you to the retail horror thread, so you can understand why I am currently too drunk to write up more B.J stories. They're kind of a challenge since I didn't witness them first hand, you see. :'(
 
Let me direct you to the retail horror thread, so you can understand why I am currently too drunk to write up more B.J stories. They're kind of a challenge since I didn't witness them first hand, you see. :'(
Oh, my sincerest apologies, m'lady. *tips fedora*

But seriously, it's cool. To deal with shit like that takes an iron will. You are much stronger than I.
 
Alright, so, this is going to be kind of hard for me to write about because I didn't witness them first hand. I'll just have to do my best!!

The return of B.J:

As I was saying before, B.J has decided to become an elementary school teacher. And, as a standard part of any aspiring teacher's eduction, they must spend a semester or two being mentored by a certified teacher in the field they wish to pursue. Guess which lucky teacher got to have B.J as their lil' helper? Yup, my mama, the same woman he attempted to throw a desk at when he himself was a fourth grader.

I bought her a bottle of wine when I found out. Least I could do.

So anyway, B.J's first day at his big boy job was...interesting to say the least. And I'm sort of guessing a little here, but this is what my mother says is the actual conversation that happened ( I called her and asked her to tell me the story again!!) when he strolled through the door.

"So, Mws. [mispronunciation of our last name], bet you nevewr expected to see me again, huh?" Smuggest look ever on his face. And oh, his face. Guys I know it's mean to make fun of people for their appearances, but I have to, I just, I have to say something. The acne. The acne was unreal. His zits had zits. He had bleeding, open, oozing white heads that were dripping down onto his white dress shirt, making these red and cream stains along the collar. My mother cheerfully described them as "strawberry cheesecake drips!". Thanks mom.

And it's weird, he didn't have such bad acne when he was in high school, at all. Just an odd little observation.

"Oh Brendan, I'm always glad to see how my students have grown up! Why don't we get you set up with - oh alright. Still a big reader, huh?" B.J had plopped himself down in the "book nook"- a tiny, squashy old couch for the kiddos to do their independent reading on - and began reading a goosebumps book.

"mmhmm"

"Oh my, Brendan, put the book away please! Your professor has you down for math and science observation at today, but I'd like you to introduce yourself to the class first, so they don't get too excited. We're starting our insect unit, and you'll be here for the whole project. That means you'll be designing two lesson plans- are you listening?"

"Awe you talking?"

"Excuse me?" My mother is as soft spoken as a delicate butterfly, but she does NOT take shit from anyone. At all. Ever. It's inspiring, and it can be terrifying. B.J. started to lose his nerve a little.

"I do not appweciate when people intewupt my weading."

"Well, you're not hear to read, you're hear to work. And to learn."

"Fine." And - oh, happy day, egg pose ways back! And as luck would have it, so were twenty five loud, screaming eight year olds. They swarmed on him like flies to shit, screaming questions and physically standing on the book nook sofa to get a better look at the pimpled, bloody creature.

"Boys and Girls! Boys and Girls! We have a student teacher with us today and he's going to tell us all about himself, but he can't do that until everyone is sitting quietly." But they were already quieting. B.J had not unfolded from the egg pose, and none of the children could quite understand why exactly an adult was behaving in such a way. "Brendan, why don't you come up and say a few words to the class." With a whine, B.J shuffled over to the front of the class, and mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "Brendan, please speak up so the boys and girls in the back of the class ca-"

"I SAID 'HI MY NAME IS B.J AND I'M A STUDENT TEACHER! I LIKE READING AND PLAYING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS! I READ TWO BOOKS A DAY AND I HAVE AN IQ OF OVER 170! THERE! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH!?" He kind of clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe he had to deal with any of this nonsense.

The kiddies were stunned. One horrified little boy whispered to his friend, "why is he so mad at us?".

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A QUESTION FOR ME?" he screeched.

A little boy raised his hand, a sly little grin on his face.

"Yes, boy in the wed shiwt?"


"Um, one time, my brother told me that a B.J was when-" My mother jumped to intervene.
"Let's keep the questions about our new student teacher and his life and- "
"No, I'll answawr his question, see, -"
"No, you won't answer it, because it's time for science! It's insect time, we're going outside to the garden!"My mother said in a panic.
A little girl screamed over her, "I DIDN'T GET TO ASK HIM WHY HIS FACE IS SO RED!"
"Well," my mother answered diplomatically, "that's because that isn't a very polite question and we don't ask impolite questions about other peoples appearances."



B.J's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Then he roared and punched the wall so hard the overhead clock went tumbling onto the booknook sofa. Everyone was frozen in horror, except of course, for B.J.
Like nothing had ever happened, B.J turned to my mother and asked if he could read a story to the children. She declined his request, and sent him home early as punishment. He was weirdly thrilled about this.

"Alwight, well. Gweat seeing you again Mwrs. [Littlebiscuits]. The childwen are weally cute. This is going to be easy."

"Brendan, you realize that I'm giving you zero credit for today's work and am report this to your professor? This is a serious problem. I think you-" But of course he was already gone, barreling down the hallway at full sperg, far, far away from the horrors and oppression of adult work.

And that was B.J's first day! Next up: B. J's last day of work, and after that, why B.J might be a sex offender.

Oh, God, please please PLEASE update us soon. Reading about B.J. is like watching a multi-car pileup in slow motion.

Also, if I recall correctly, didn't you say that you have more stories about crappy roommates to share with us?
 
Oh, God, please please PLEASE update us soon. Reading about B.J. is like watching a multi-car pileup in slow motion.

Also, if I recall correctly, didn't you say that you have more stories about crappy roommates to share with us?

I will, I'm sorry. I just found out that my best friend from high school was killed today and I'm sad beyond words. :( I can't stop crying. I'm too sad to be funny right now.
 
I will, I'm sorry. I just found out that my best friend from high school was killed today and I'm sad beyond words. :( I can't stop crying. I'm too sad to be funny right now.

Oh my gosh, take all the time you need! Don't worry about entertaining us assholes on the internet. I'm so sorry for your loss. :heart-empty:
 
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