b3ta.com user The If
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Maybe I won't come back for a very long while.

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» Your Weirdest Teacher

One stands out
In my 7th and 8th grade history classes I had the pleasure of having the same teacher twice. Mr. Driscoll was a superb teacher, but he was a bit.. off kilter.

Usually he's class was like any other social studies class, but on some days he would tell use we were all going to fail, or never get anywhere in life, throwing some of the biggest fits I've ever seen an adult throw. Once he was so upset he hit his desk. Again, nothing to weird about that, but he managed to break the table and his hand.

Like most the responses he seemed pervier then most teachers, constantly looking down girls shirts and what not. He also had a shirt which we thought was quite obiviously from a strip club.

Me and my friend always tried to out do each other on halloween costumes every year, and 8th grade was no different. He made an "elaborate" Osama bin Laden costume the year before, I wasn't going to stand to lose twice in a row. So my Mr. Driscoll costume was born. I started with a shirt and a "print your own shirt designs" paper. With my shirt proudly blazing "CHA-CHA CLUB" I set out to give the illusion of chest hair and underarm stains, and finishing it all off with a playboy. In a weird coincidence he wore his "Cha-Cha Club" shirt that "halloween" schoolday. (In case you were wondering, I enjoyed the candy bar my friend bought me.)

In an unrelated note he walked in on Jessica Swallows (I swear to god, her real name) and some guy with their pants down in his classroom.
(Wed 9th Nov 2005, 18:20, More)

» Phobias

Oh I have a few. Some of them original.
I don't have an issue with spiders, I was told by my dear mother that the Daddy Long Legs (also known as Pholcidae, thanks Wikipedia) aren't venomous, and tarantulas always held a certain fascination for me. But the cockroach makes me squirm.
We had a dog, but no doggie door, so we'd leave the sliding glass door open for in evenings. An open door is an invitation to moths, flies, spiders, and cockroaches to crawl in and take refuge in your house. Then crawl up your bedsheets or live in your bathroom. The sink of your bathroom, huge and hidden, except the antennae which stick out. I'm not a screamer, but I do freeze up and ask other people to squish 'em for me.

Also, I don't like turning my back on an open oven. I don't know where it stems from. Maybe an ovenmonster will grab me and drag me in. jibbli-jibbli-jiblli.
(Sun 13th Apr 2008, 1:28, More)

» Useless advice

Not quite useless advice....
but very notable.
A sticker seen on the door of a bus.
We also have signs saying "Assaulting a bus driver is a crime." Very depressing to find others need to be told these things.

I haven't heard "Smile, it'll never happen", but I've been told, on occaison, "Do you wanna talk about it? Well, whatever it is, it's sure to get better?" Which really didn't help very much. Because a friend's death just undoes itself.

I once heard one dunce tell her friend. "It's okay, you can't get pregnant the first time right?" "Right, you don't need to worry." Yes, because the ovaries are just going to NOT do their job.
(Tue 24th Oct 2006, 4:31, More)

» Encounters with Royalty

I recently had an encounter...
My friend's father is a prominent member of my city. Promenent meaning a Rabbi of a medium sized Synagogue.
I was at this friend's house and I needed a ride home because my car had broken down, and his father was kind enough to offer me one. Because I wasn't in a position to negotiate. I was dropped off and picked up at a fancy-shmancy hotel, and my ride was dolled up for a fancy-shmancy occaison. While I was waiting for my parents to arrive for the next leg of my journey, a limo drove up. Out of the limo came out a little man with funny little glasses. That's right, I got to wave at the Dalai Lama.

It turns out the Rabbi was part of the welcoming commitee, along with a few denominations of preists, another Rabbi, and representitives of other religions and the State.

Technically he's royality.
(Fri 4th Aug 2006, 6:40, More)

» Birthdays

My 6th birthday, and I was convinced I wanted a clown at my party, my parents protested for a while, but I convinced them. Damnit, I was turning 6 and there'd be hell to raise if I didn't get that clown.
So, my dad goes off and hires a clown. This guy was amazing, doing all the stuff a clown should ending with a daredevil ride off the roof in a wagon.

The next school day I was the coolest kid in class, and after my dad picked me up I overheard him talking with another parent. It turns out he was Ono the Clown. Not understanding that a dummy floor off my roof the previous Sunday, I thought he was actually a clown. I decided to watch him to see if he went to the circus instead of some sort of suit job. For weeks I looked through his stuff to find clown make up, juggling balls, or anything like that.

I found nothing.
(Tue 13th Dec 2005, 16:20, More)
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