May 14th, 2008
Today in English we're reading this play called "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead" by Tom Stoppard. It's basically a "we know school is over but he's something to do" activity, and the play is actually pretty interesting ("Hamlet" turned inside out). Now, my teacher is known in school for his absolute awkwardness and his obsession with sex in literature. I'm not even joking. It's not dangerous or anything, it's just kind of creepy. So I'm reading the part of Rosencrantz, and there's a bit of sexual innuendo going on where he's all "Thirty-eight? Is that part of your...tableaux?" and the teacher stops to point out what's there. AND BEFORE I CAN STOP MYSELF I say "Yeah, like sixty-" AND THEN I COVER MY MOUTH WITH MY HANDS BUT IT WAS TOO LATE BECAUSE HE HAD LATCHED ON AND SAID IT TO THE REST OF THE CLASS AGAIN. GOOD GOD AM I STUPID.
Good times, good times.
Good times, good times.