Sadly, my days in sex ed are slowly coming to a close as the end of the third marking period draws near.
How I'll miss all of the drawings of penises and vaginas that once graced the chalkboards, the horrible Lifetime Network TV movies about date rape, and of course, Ms. Mulvey, our teacher, blowing up condoms and giving them to us like balloons.
Ms. Mulvey is awesome.
I'll really miss her.
Not only is she an incredibly nice lady, she is the epitome of attractiveness.
Who could resist her enormous, curly, black mullet, her piercing blue eyes, and her beautiful smile of three teeth (all gold)?
With her oversized sweatshirts and stretchy plaid pants worn with socks scrunched down over them, not only is she a forerunner of fashion, but also a stunning living time capsule of the late 1980's and the early 1990's.
Half of the class is usually spent watching her doing Irish dances (she's the International Dance teacher in gym) to the "Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance" cd blasting from her boombox.
The other half of the class is especially devoted to her love of animal sex.
No joke.
Ms. Mulvey apparently grew up on a farm and grew to appreciate the fornication of farm animals, especially horses.
In response to a question about the life-span of sperm, she said,
"Oh, I've seen buckets of horse sperm on the farm, they live for several days."
BUCKETS OF HORSE SPERM?
She has also conducted several classes about the binobo monkeys, who apparently spend their entire lifelong existence having, well, wild monkey sex.
This lady loves. animal. sex.
Another entire class was devoted to animal penis shapes.
A pig's penis is apparently curly just like its tail. A whale penis is the size of a person.
Then, to show us what a "real" boner was, Mulvey decided to whip out her personal collection of:
Raccoon penis bones!!!!!
She reached down into her scrunchy socks and pulled out two raccoon penis bones.
From her socks. Penis bones. In her socks.
What a woman.
I love you Ms. Mulvey.
**Note: I also updated my College Blog. Czech it out if you wish.**
For the past four years, I've gone through the halls of my school feeling pretty apathetic about all of the groups of kids standing around looking stupid.
I think every school has them.
There's the tough white guys wearing FUBU, the slutty hispanic girls with the bobbing heads (they bob when provoked), the clean-cut rich kids, the "Azn Invazn," the skinny neon raver kids, and the larger freak kids with too-small clothing.
Recently, though, a new group has slowly made it's way into the hallways.....
Fake hippie kids.
You've all seen them, in and out of school.
They're everywhere, making a conscious effort to buy conspicuously 100% organic food, smoking pot behind buildings, sitting in the parking lot on the hood of their cars playing their acoustic guitars..
They look out of place at punk shows, make awkward appearances at emo shows, and are prime targets at metal shows.. You can always pick them out by the big curly weef on their heads, the tie-dyed Dave Matthews t-shirt (freshly purchased from ebay), and by the ever present cloud of pot smoke.
I'm not sure how I feel about these kids. I guess I'm pretty ambivalent towards them.
A few of them are genuinely nice, despite the fact that they reek of some mixture of incense, pot, patchouli oil, and B.O.
But the rest of them are just pretty damn annoying, toting around a little cd case of all of the latest Dave Matthews, Phish, Moe, and whatever horrible jam band is out.
The greatest thing about them, though, is when they talk about getting wasted. I've heard about them seeing leprechauns pop out of someone's t-shirt, saying "Follow me!" while on acid, seeing a line of penguins chasing after them...
I guess the main redeeming factor of these kids is that they possess the same amusing quality as a circus sideshow.
There's lots of variations to the fake hippie kids, including the fake surfer hippie kids, the drugged-out deadhead fake hippie kids, the pseudo-bohemian fake hippie kids,
and of course,
my personal favorite,
[Peek-a-Foo]
: When I feel bad, I have to take my mind off it. There's only one thing that does that to me.
: Cooking a big meal...