Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

Gay car. May 10, 2010

My boss thinks he’s a real ladies man.

He the head of a primary school.

He employs mainly thin blondes with pert boobs ( I must have slipped through the net ).

Well it gives him something to look at during meetings.

You think this is a joke, but trust me, throughout my whole interview, I don’t think he looked at my face once.

To be fair he might not be meaning to look at the breast department, but it must be hard to avoid that area when you’re a balding midget, as he is.

He seriously thinks himself a little bit of a ladies man, with his swarve (creepy), masterful (little man syndrome )presence.

Oh…how mistaken he is.

He is only one up, from a poison dwarf.

Everything about him oozes creepy perve.

You enter his lair (office ) at your own risk, a wondering hand could accidently grab a wedge of your arse at any moment.

There really is nothing about this man that would turn on a normal human being.

Unless of course you like purvey, midgets who drive  bright urine yellow Suzuki’s.

I mean, what the fuck was he thinking.

You might think you look like a hunk in tunks in you bright urine yellow 4×4, but everyone else thinks you look like a massive cock.

Mind you, it does kinda suit him. Cockhead man, cockhead car.

The gay car also suits some of his weirdo mannerisms, and it certainly complements some of his twatish sayings.

Which is mainly what comes out of his shit filled mouth.

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A lesson in drugs. May 5, 2010

Its time for that old favourite… Its PHSE!

Todays specialist subject. ‘ Drugs and Alcohol ‘ . I can almost hear the kids giving me a whoop, whoop!

Of I go.

Teacher: “Today guys, we are going to talk about ‘Drugs and Alcohol’, lets see what we already know”

There little eyes are bright with excitement. If ‘ Masterminds’ specialist subject was addictions, these kids would be champions!

The air is once again a sea of hands.

Even the normal, mute retards are on fire.

There spitting at the mouth in desperation to speak. ( and thats not got anything to do with there need for speech therapy).

Pupils: ” Beer, wine, Vodka, splif, speed, rock, acid, Jack Daniels”

               ” My dad likes weed”

Crap, this is no longer a lesson, this is fucking boasting.

‘My Dads more addicted than your Dad’

‘My Mums more fucked up than your Mum’

Maybe there is an advantage to having drug addled, moron parents.

 

The Sloth parent. April 29, 2010

It makes me so cross. Grrrrrrrr

I was in the classroom, when in walked two of the persistently late kids.

“Sorry I’m late” she drones from the door. ” My dad wants to talk to you”.

Crap!  

The mans a fucking prick.

I smile and say ok, secretly thinking, if he wanted to speak to me then he should try getting his lazy fat arse out of bed earlier and speak to me before school. Rather than interrupt the entire class.

Twat!

Up I get, trying to take in multiple gulps of air.

My nazel passages are about to be violated.

I leave the room and sure enough, standing in front of me is the giant, dirty sloth of a man (I use the term man loosely, he’s more pig cross skunk beast ).

I deliberately stand as far back as possible, he fucking stinks, his humongous gut bulging over the top of his trousers and hanging out the bottom of his stained top.

I don’t want to make eye contact with him, but where do I look, he has dried toothpaste all around his mouth ( which kind of shocks me, so this family do have personal cleaning products who’d have thought it).

He starts moaning.

“Kileys brother as been given a behaviour book”  Yes, that’s because your shit parenting has made him feral.

” Kiley is feeling really left out, cause he keeps getting stuff when he’s good, and she don’t. So we were thinking, she could hav one as well” – No, fuckwitt, she can’t. I have better things to do with my time than panda to your fucking kids whims, cause you can’t control them.

I explain politely ( which pains me ) , that wasn’t possible due to the fact that she wasn’t badly behaved at school, yes, that’s right loser, she behaves for us because we have these little things called boundaries.

” He looks confused, maybe I used too many big words ”

Mental note: Keep language to 10 letter words or less.

Smelly fuckwitt parent: ” Sorry they were late, I got pulled over by the police cause I had 4 kids in the back. I don’t know what there problem is cause Tyler is only small”

Fuck me this man really is a moron!

Me: ” It doesn’t matter how big the children are, its down to the fact that you only have three seatbelts in the back. Even if they are really, really small, you can still only have 3 humans in the back of the car”  You have to ask yourself, should these people really be allowed to bare children?

Smelly fuckwitt parent: ” Yerrrr, maybe”  No, not fucking maybe freak. positively yes you cretinous freak.

Why the fuck am I wasting my time.

I end the conversation.

Life is too fucking short!

Somebody fucking shoot me.

 

The ranting educator. April 26, 2010

Filed under: Gene Pool Rejects,The Working Bitch. — bitchpedia @ 8:16 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Being a teacher is not all it’s cracked up to be.
For one thing we don’t start at 9 and finish at 4.
But that’s not the half of it, endless streams of twatish parents, who through gritted teeth, we are forced to take the abuse and answer in a polite manner.
Even Facebook offers no respite( teaching staff are banned from blogging on that too).

You think that any parent, even the twatish ones would be grateful if you took their child to A&E for emergency treatment, because they couldn’t be arsed to collect her and take her themselves, apparently not.
No they decided the way to thank me, was to scream abuse at me and shout comments like ” U comin out for a fag, no, you look to innocent for that”, ” why you bring her er, there ain’t nothing wrong with er. It’s the fucking school making a fuss.”
No fuckwitt, she was about to go in to a diabetic coma and die!
What the fuck is up with these people!

 

A swim to far! April 21, 2010

What the fuck is up with parents these days.

It is the Easter holidays, so I decided to take the kids swimming.

Off to the pool we went, laden down with inflatables.

I wobble out of the changing room in last years tankini, followed by my two off spring.

So, there I am bent over, head in the locker, and gigantic arse in the air.

When I hear, “Hello, Mrs Smith”

WTF! Am I really that recognisable by my arse!

I jump up, whacking my head on the locker.

Crap! Stood in front of me is one of the pupils from school.

It was like some very dodgy welcoming party, everyone standing there practically nude.

“Hello” I say, when I’m actually thinking, fuck off and leave me alone.

Anyway, I manage a quick ‘Hello’ and ‘how are you’- no response wanted!

And waddle away as fast as my cellulite will allow me, carefully positioning smallest child behind me to cover large arse area!

I practically throw myself into the safety of the water, and try to have some fun, trying to prevent my children from drowning.

Anyway along story short, that little fucker followed me around the pool, showing me all his freakish swimming maneuvers.

More to the point, the little fuckers moronic parents allowed him to.

Note to all parents: When out, if you happen upon your childs teacher, a quick hello is fine, but that is all, anymore than that and you’re taking the fucking piss. So take your child and for god sake leave us alone!!!!!

 

The Spirit of the Punto! April 9, 2010

Having just picked up my darling children from school, I was sitting at the traffic lights, patiently awaiting the green light. When suddenly in the corner of my eye, i see two lads in there souped up Astra, goading me from behind the steering wheel.

For fuck sake, I’m on the school run in my Punto!

The sub banging, their foot balancing above the accelerator.

Obviously, I’m way to Mumsy to get involved. So I just keep staring at the lights.

The light changes to green.

The race is on.

Or so i thought, if of course he hadn’t stolled at the lights!

My 1.2 Punto with one middle age owner reins victorious!

 

Inappropriate Parents.

I was quite brave when I had my second child. I stayed at home until I could bare it no longer. When I got to hospital there were no beds for me, bollocky NHS, 8 cm dilated and no bed!

So there I am contracting in the waiting room, trying to look cool. When who should walk by, the mother of one of my pupils. It turns out she is one of the assistant midwives there.

A quick ‘hello’ would be fine, but no, down she sat next to me, and proceeded to orchestrate a parent teacher consultation.

Do you no what the really stupid thing was, instead of telling her to fuck right off and that I couldn’t give a shit about her window licker of a son, I actually took part in it!

It must have been the hormones!