Slay.me

A teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class.

She came to the part of the story where first pig was trying to gather the building materials for his home.

She read. ‘And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said: ‘Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?’

The teacher paused then asked the class: ‘And what do you think the man said?’

One little boy raised his hand and said very matter-of-factly…

‘I think the man would have said – ‘I’ll be a son of a bitch!! A talking pig!’

A group of kindergartners were trying very hard to become accustomed to the first grade.

The biggest hurdle they faced was that the teacher insisted on NO baby talk!

You need to use ‘Big People’ words,’  she was always reminding them.

She asked John what he had done over  the weekend?

‘I went to visit my Nana’.

No, you went to visit your GRANDMOTHER.

Use ‘Big People’  words!’

She then asked Mitchell what he had done

‘I took a ride on a choo-choo’.

She said. ‘No, you took a ride on a TRAIN.

You must remember to use  ‘Big People’ words’.

She then asked little Alex what he had done?

‘I read a book’ he replied.

That’s  WONDERFUL!’ the teacher said.

‘What book did you read?’

Alex thought real hard about it,

then puffed out his chest with great pride, and said,

‘Winnie the SHIT’

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR
OWN AGE AND THINKING, SURELY I CAN’T LOOK THAT OLD.
WELL . . . YOU’LL LOVE THIS ONE.

MY NAME IS ALICE , AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING
ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST.

I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA ON THE WALL, WHICH BORE HIS
FULL NAME. SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME,
DARK-HAIREDBOY WITH THE SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL
CLASS SOME 30-ODD YEARS AGO.

COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON,
WAY BACK THEN?

UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH
THOUGHT.

THIS BALDING, GRAY-HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED
FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE.

AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD
ATTENDED MORGAN PARK HIGH SCHOOL …

“YES. YES, I DID. I’M A MUSTANG,” HE GLEAMED WITH
PRIDE.

WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?’ I ASKED.

HE ANSWERED, “IN 1975. WHY DO YOU ASK?”

“YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!” I EXCLAIMED.

HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.

THEN, THAT UGLY,

OLD,

BALD,

WRINKLED FACED,

FAT-ASSED,

GRAY-HAIRED,

DECREPIT

SON-OF-A-BITCH

ASKED,

“WHAT DID YOU TEACH???”