How I got raped.

What? Did I really get raped? Probably not in the way you think but in the way I think, hell yeah. There are many forms of rape. Or is rape just rape? I hope I made you think. You probably just think I am stupid and want to slap me. I take offensive to that but the best offensive is a good defense. I was going somewhere but can’t remember….

The rape scene begins in the cafeteria. It actually begins and ends there. While waiting in line, I was scoping out the meat. (No, not Korean guys, the food idiots. Felt I had to clarify for Courtney. Poor thing had to google what a synonym was. Seriously, my niece had homework about synonyms and Courtney didn’t know what they were. Funny yet sad.) So… I see these big fried things of what looked to be deliciousness. Yummy, I am going to eat you up like a fat kid in a candy store. I am always so hungry by lunch. So, I sat down to enjoy my lunch and they looked so freaking good. To bad they didn't taste as good as they looked. Why does it always have too look so darn good but taste like toe jam. Seriously, It tasted like fried Chicken of Sea, with hamster droppings as seasoning. I still feel sick but that was the only thing I put on my plate so I felt obligated to eat it. Stupid obligations. Everyone was looking at my facial reactions as I ate. Looking for my approval of Korean food. I was thinking “Can everyone just stop looking so I can throw this across the room or slide it on my co-teacher’s plate.” My acting skills have blossomed so much here. I performed one of those, (Insert Texan accent) Oh My God grandma this the best things since Christmas!, but really I wanted to slip it under the table to feed the dog. I don’t have a dog, though I have some colleagues that chew with their mouths open which makes them look like dogs. Sometimes I wish I were blind so I could have a Seeing Eye Dog. Life would be so much easier.

So as I was eating this disgusting crap they call food, I forced my mind to leave my body. YAY, I can leave. Seriously, I left Matt Weaver as you know him. I went to another world. I was in dreamland and life was beautiful. I don’t even remember eating the disgusting food and as soon as I knew it I had finished my lunch. I thought, “How did I eat that crap?” I realized, while I was in my happy place, my body was feeding itself. It was quite nice.

I know, how can I compare rape to eating? I assume when you’re raped you leave your body the same way. Well, I would hope so or I just look like an ass. I probably already look like an ass because rape is actually a serious issue and I am comparing it to my lunch today. Oh well, I can’t always be politically correct. I don’t even like politics, maybe that’s why I am never politically correct. Let’s just say I felt raped by my lunch today and now I need a shower and I should call the police.

Last week one my middle school students grabbed my cell phone and wanted to put her number in it. I freaked out. What? No, you cannot have my number and I definitely don’t want yours. Little dirty girl go away. Some of my co-teachers text and call students but I’m definitely not doing that. I have heard way too many stories. That same day while I was walking home a student asked where I lived and wanted directions. She said “I want to go.” Ummmmmm. What? Can you just go home and get breast fed because you are a baby and that is way too awkward. I would never have a student over. I don’t need to understand all the culture difference to know that students having my number and coming over is definitely not a good idea. That is just asking for trouble. I would rather let Micheal Jackson sleep over.

All of my stories had something to do with rape. Well, maybe not totally....but if you stretch it.