Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

A meeting of minds-retarded minds! June 9, 2010

The staffroom was its usual inspiring self today.

I’m sitting there supping on my tea, trying to eat my banana in my most non-sexual way, purve boss is clearly checking out my lip sucking skills.

The Squirrel comes in, her bag bursting with high calorie lardy snacks.

She whips open her foil package,  the smile on her face tells me, she has been waiting for this moment. The whole 2, yes 2 hours since school started this morning.

She reveals two heavily buttered slices of bread, and then cracks open a packet of salt and vinager- declaring “You can’t beat a crisp sandwich” Clearly not, you lard arse.

Just as she’s about to start describing, her love of the deep-fried foods, in walks Dumb arse bitch (DAB).

Am I about to witness the meeting of minds, retarded Nasa of the future?

DAB: ” Oh that looks nice, I haven’t had one of them in ages, my Jake loves a nice sandwich. Problem is, the bread just gets stuck in his brace” This kid must look like one hell of a freak, he has a dodgy eye, a nervous twitch and braces stuffed with last nights dinner. His class mates must be having it on their toes with that kind of material at their finger tips.

The Squirrel: ” I had a brace, I was always getting food stuck in it” I’m surprised you were willing to share your food with your brace- wonders will never siese. ” You need to make sure he brushes his teeth properly” Fuck me she should write a parenting book!

DAB: ” Well I do try. I was doing his teeth last night and I found a bit of  Tuesdays tea in it” That fucking freak could have a whole chicken stuck in his brace and it still wouldn’t detract from his twitching.

The Staffroom a place of intelligent conversation, not in my school, a place where retards are free to express themselves.

The world would be a more retarded place with those muppets educating the young and impressionable.

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Sir Boss’a’cock meeting.

My boss proved to me today what an absolute knob jockey he really is.

It’s inset day at my school, what it should actually be called is ‘Moan like a fucker’ day.

So there we all are, well those who were stupid enough not to feign illness, sitting in the conference room just waiting for him to start spouting.

He, my cock of a boss that is, stands in front of us, with his I am God, you will all respect me pose.

Errr… if God is a very small little man, wearing cords, a grey shirt and a very tight gay leather neck chain, then yes, you are he.

So he starts trying to make analogy’s about swans, and how if we don’t fly as one then we will  fail-dick.

We failed Sir boss’a’cock, when you took to the helm and made all those twatish decisions based on your ego.

I look around the room, yes, its official, this bloke is proficient in talking shit and is more effective at sending people to sleep than counting frigging sheep.

The whole room is bored as fuck with all eyes firmly glazed over, except of course Miss Petty Bitch, she’s sitting there in the front row-loser, smiling and nodding I’m left wondering, has she glazed into her robotic sex role. Just nod and smile it will be over very soon!

No, No I think she is actually falling for his bollocks. What a giant petty cock head.

Suddenly I am jolted back to reality.

The Knobhead boss is now standing in front of me swinging ropes and inviting people to join him, 6 people ( Who I have completely lost all respect for now) actually get up and start swinging, me thinks he has other swinging ideas in mind for these folks.

Then after a while, he starts.

The same old shit- no communication, at which point I have to stop myself from shouting out ” Communicate this you twat” (middle finger standing proud).

Seriously, I can’t take much more of this shit.

Everything he is standing up their whining about, originates from him and his cockhead management.

Err…Lead by example you tit.

If only these meetings were more like comedy shows, the more they take the piss the more I can heckle.

I can hear me now…..

” Get your cock out your own arse, cretin”

” Oi, little dick, those fucking heals you’re wearing, make you look like a midget Drag queen”

” That comb over your sporting- grow some balls and shave it off”

Ahhhhh…..one can dream can’t she?

 

A feral break. May 13, 2010

The bell for break time is always a welcome sound.

Off you go kids, go fight and be delinquent out of my eye view.

A well needed coffee is calling.

So I’m catching up on some gossip with a friend.

When in walks Yoda, my ever-increasing purve of a boss.

Yoda: ” Jane, I think we need to give Sarah more support with Jack” (feral boy). By we, I assume you mean, me, as you choose never to leave your lair and actually interact with the kids.

Yoda: “Could you have him in with you for a few days a week”

Feral boy, err…no.

Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to have to turn you down on this one.

As tempting as spending hours shut in a room with him is, being barked at and stabbed with pencils.

The idea of having my face chewed on by a Rottweiler is more appealing.

This kid isn’t stupid, in fact his language skills never cease to amaze me.

Only today he flew around the dining hall calling random children ‘fucking dirty whores’.

With his speech impediment, that took some doing.

Mental note: Must mark of speech and language in his assessment file.

 

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.

 

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.

 

A donut race. May 4, 2010

Mirage: Some see water. The Squirrel see’s donuts.

As I entered the room, my eyes were met with a vision of fine sugary treats.

Apparently not just mine!

I go to the cupboard and reach for a plate.

Suddenly, a giant arse comes from out of know where, and wham, pushes me out the way.

This could only be ‘The squirrel’.

Shes smelt them from 100 paces, her eyes have plotted the coordinates.

Theres know one and nothing that can stop her now.

I’m left standing, in a state of shock, mixed with pure amazement. And I don’t mind admitting, admiration.

You’ve got to hand it to the woman. She see’s something she wants, and there ain’t nothing that’s gonna get in her way.

Clearly not me anyway.

She approaches the table.

Her eyes light up as she grabs a bag (yes, bag) of donuts, and stashes them in her bag.

Don’t forget your pockets love.

Surely theres room between your pasties!

 

A bum lesson.

There are some classes you just don’t look forward to being part of.

This is most certainly one of them.

Its time for PHSE.

Topic: Parts of the body. ( what could possibly go wrong!!)

So, off we go.

I start off with the usual speal.

As soon as I mention body parts, laughter trickles around the circle.

Ok, this can only end one way- disastrously!

Teacher: ” Right today we are learning about the correct names of parts of the body”.

                   ” Who can start me off”.

I realise this is asking for trouble, let’s be honest what these ‘asbo’ kids don’t know about body parts, is not worth knowing.

It’s all good learning, after all, these kids are going to need to know the difference between their anus and there urethra, otherwise, how else are the going to hide their drugs.

A sea of hands rise into the air, it just goes to prove, if you teach a subject that’s familiar to them, there’s no end to there talents.

I choose the children wisely, ” Bum, willy, fairy(WTF!), leg, bum cheeks etc, etc”  They continue without falter.

Teacher: ” Well done, now, these are all words that we choose to call our body parts, however they also have technical  names that your doctor might use”.” Lets see if we can label this diagram with the correct names”

Off they go again ” bottom, penis, breast, thigh, fairy(?)”

Seriously no… please don’t tell me at 9 years old, this freak thinks her fanny is called a fairy.

Ok, I see they are going to need some help with this.

Teacher: ” Right lets start with bottom, our bottom is made up of lots of different parts, the cheeks that we sit on, and the part that we poo out of. Who can tell me what that is called, it begins with ‘a’ ?

They sit there, red-faced and shocked that they can legitimately say penis and vagina, and not get told off. The hands begin to rise.

There’s one hand higher than the others, the owner about to explode with excitement, finally a subject they understand.

I bravely go with it.

Teacher: ” Yes, jazz, ‘a’ is for…..”

Pupil: ” Arse” A beaming smile on face, there is no way that answer could be wrong, her Dad uses it all the time.

Teacher: ” No, not quite. ‘A’ is for anus”

What the fuck am I doing, Its ok kids, stick with what you know.

Does it really matter if a fanny is a fairy, and a bum is an arse.

Lets face it, these kids have more to think about.

I abandon the lesson.

Anyone want to take their ‘trouser snake’ for a piddle?