EPTRight after the bell rang it was block 2, which happens to be art class and one of my favorite classes through out high school.
But no, this specific art class was different. something was wrong. I never had my usual art teacher. instead, standing at the front of the room was a beast so terrifying, so repulsive, so utterly disgusting. At the front of my class was my NEW art teacher!!! Later known as " The Great White Whale".
With a face like a leather hand bag, the nose of a pig, and the smile that could power the Death Star with pure evil.
instantly i knew this semester was going to be a hellish frenzy of horrible art projects.
And boy was i right...
I will Add Pictures as soon as i get them.
But for now i will be adding more to the blog.
-------------------------------------------------------Call Me Ishmael------------------------------------------------------------
Entering The room for another Fucking pointless Art Class. She acts all nice to every one but when she looks at me, i get this vibe that, she deeply deeply hates me. Our Project for the week is To print a tree......a fucking tree. so for about 4 classes we scratch a god damn branch into a small class square. but we dont get any special tools to make it easier to make detal, no shes to fucking cheap to do that.
instead she gives us FUCKING SCREWS!!!!
like the ones you use on walls and shit.
within the first 15 minutes your thumbs are raw, like playing n64 too much.
ontop of all the scratching noises which sound like nails on a chalk board, she decides to come around and check on all the projects.
i over hear her talking to alot of the other students about how well they are doing with the markings they make with the screws that are too damn small for your hands to function.
she come so me. now i was scared shitless!!
she walks up nice and close behind me and watches over my shoulder ( one of my pet peves)
and i can hear her breathing. in and out. in and out. with a small cloggage in the nose (blow hole)
that makes a small but VERY fucking high pitch squeal/wistle.
im trying my hardest not to move or crap my self because everyone know that she can smell your fear, and she hunts by movement.
i swear she was there for at least 45 seconds before saying something. wich inturn was the LONGEST 45 seconds of my life.
The first thing she sais about my project was..
" what is that?"
i replied " it appears to be a tree of some sort"
maybe she didnt know because she lives under the ocean.
but apparently i got it mad.
" Are you trying to be funny? because you're not!"
she snorted.
i said nothing.
i wanted to. but i didnt want to be eaten alive.
[end of chapter]
--------------------------------------------------Signature Move---------------------------------------------------------------
At the end of fucking gay glass scratching project, we have to put ink on the glass and press it into a peice of paper.....
i was beginning to think this class was meant for 1st graders.
i wanted to know why we had to print it on fucking paper. so as she walked by i asked her
" whats the point of this project?'
but she doesnt even flinch.
she keeps on walking by "PRETENDING" she never heard me.
that made me VERY ANGRY.
i wanted to man the harpoons..so badly.
after she walked around the room a few times ( i assumed it was her daily exercise)
she comes by my table and stares at my "scratching" she asks me to fill in the empty space.
do you know how much space there was on that peice of glass. too much space to scratch in with a fucking screw. it would be the equivilent to playing super smash bros n64 for about 10 hours.
you wouldnt have any thumbs left...
so i say fuck that and just leave it.
so im at the printing table applying the ink. which i think is grease.... not too sure.
but its dried. its all hard ( thats what she said) lol
it takes about 15 minutes to get the god damn shit on your fucking peice of glass.
again she comes by me and ONLY me to tell me im doing it wrong and to do it a different more ( elaborate ) way.
fucking bullshit.
the day a whale tells me how to apply dried grease to a peice of glass is the day "S club 7" is cool.
so while im pressing the ink to the glass. again she comes up to watch.
and its not what she says its what she does.
her body language. the way she tilts left while she stands because she cant hold her body weight and will collapse under her own mass.
ANYWAYS!!
i finished the 5 prints and left class as soon as possible.
the the next day they were marked.
i lost 2 marks for tone, variaty, ect ect which i understand. i didnt care about that stuff.
what really fucked my asshole was that i lost 50% on my signature.....
MY FUCKING SIGNATURE
HOW IN NEPTUNES LAIR DO YOU LOSE 50% ON YOUR OWN SIGNATURE
i was pissed.
very pissed.
extremely pissed.
very very very pissed.
so i storm up to her docking bay ( desk)
and demand an answer to this blasphemy!
now what she told me
was the most redicilus* fucking stupid thing ive ever heard in my entire life.
she told me that my signature wasnt close enough to the fucking line!!!!!
THE FUCKING LINE!!!!!!!!!
JESUS TITTY FUCKING CHRIST!!!!!
i furiously searched everyone elses prints to find my signature was in the samefucking spot if not CLOSER
than thiers.
i stomp back to her docking bay and show her the comparison between the two prints.
mine and some other chicks ( i dont know her name but who cares stfu)
she looks and nods.
at that time i think i won.
but my .000098997875648768576 seconds of fame was over when she said
"oh, we can measure them to see"
WE CAN MEASURE THEM!!!!???
ARE YOU FUCKINGOFFYOURROCKER!!???
YEAH LETS USE THE GOD DAMN HUBBLE FUCKING TELESCOPE TO OBSERVE THE MOLECULES BETWEEN MYSIGNATURE AND THE LINE IN WHICH I WAS SUPPOSED TO WRIGHT IT UNDER!!!
i left. fast.
[end of chapter]
![[image loading]](http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/226/1226835883362gd0.png)
