(Which I'm doing in copious amounts as I type this) When I was 5 years old my very elderly, massively cerebral-palsy-ridden, full-body-shaking, sort of boogeying teacher Mrs. Santos used to stutter to the class, "Y-Y-Y-You sh-show me a t-t-tropical fruit and I-I-I-I'll sh-sh-show you a c-c-cocsucker from H-Hawaii!!" as the old lady's arms were hilariously wrenching around her body and this mean-spirited, nasty old bag was sort of physically "jitterbugging" through her twitching, spasming daily lesson in the physical embarrassment she deserved. At some point the old bag's nerve disease somehow allowed her to achieve a certain sort of C-walk "shuffle" in all of Mrs. Santos' various weirdly jolting, sometimes creepy/funny physical dipsy-doodles. Or MS or Parkinsons or whatever the fuck was wrong with the old bully.
This was 40 years ago so I'm sure this incredibly mean, mean, mean-spirited teacher who used to single out a certain 5-year-old boy for humiliation died the embarrassing but hilariously active shuffle-dance death it deserved.
This was 40 years ago so I'm sure this incredibly mean, mean, mean-spirited teacher who used to single out a certain 5-year-old boy for humiliation died the embarrassing but hilariously active shuffle-dance death it deserved.
Last edited:
