This year is MY year. I'm excited about what God has in store for me! π
I lost all respect for bishop. & I don't care if he's in daveon's life or not tbh.
Me being with my son's dad is not healthy for me!!! & I won't put my child in the middle of a fucked up situation just for the sake of being considered a "family"
I don't consider it being "selfish" that I won't be in a relationship with my son's dad for his sake.
But I'm just generally speaking.. π
I absolutely can not stand a single mom who's "doing it by themselves" but keeps the child from his/her father.
I've never loved anyone, the way that I love you. #MyWORLD #MommyBaby #JustUs ππͺβ€οΈ
I was tuned in today.
How do you look better in 2014 than you did in 1998?
I love Black men. Love Black women. We are fucking magic.
I'm at work fuuuuucccckkkkeeedddd UP!
I don't believe a wooooooord my son dad tells me. If he said the sky was blue, I would still run outside & look for myself. π
please elaborate on how you got a substitute teacher to quit within one day. I'm genuinely curious.
all right everyone sit down, shut up and listen closely because Iβm about to tell yβall the tale of Ms. Mormino.
Seventh grade is a time most people donβt look back on fondly. I know I sure donβtβI tend to regard that era as nothing more than an unpleasant, acne-filled haze of fall out boy and poor attempts at pseudo-zooey deschanel fashions. But enough about me. Letβs talk about my math teacher.Β
Ms. Isom. Poor old Ms. Isom. Well in her 60βs, always plagued with some illness or injury, she was hardly ever even at school. Since many of her absences were the result of short-notice incidentsββfalling down the stairsβ was popularly citedβ it wasnβt all that uncommon to not have a substitute on hand. Being a smartass honors class, weβd gotten away with several successful evasions of administration, walking cavalierly into class Β to pass the next 48 minutes doing just about nothing. Hell, for good measure, weβd sometimes even toss in a friendly βhey, Ms. Isom!β if any administrators were anywhere within earshot. So incredibly anti-establishment, you could basically call it another Project Mayhem, except instead of Brad Pitt and Ed Norton concocting homemade bombs, it was a bunch of tweenyboppers with iPhone 3βs and Justin Bieber 2009 haircuts.Β
Β We got pretty accustomed to our own little self-governing system that rolled around every second period, so we naturally werenβt exactly thrilled when administration caught on to our little Anarchy Act and strictly enforced the presence of a substitute every day.Β
Most of our subs werenβt terribleβmost were friendly, gave us participation grades, and didnβt object to the independent attitude of our class (which, mind you, only had about ten students in it)Β
That is, until Ms. Mormino came along.Β
Four feet, ten inches of raw, undiluted evil, Ms. Mormino walked into class with a scowl on her face and a chip on her shoulder. When the girl behind me sneezed, Ms. Morminoβs immediate response was βNO INAPPROPRIATE NOISES!βΒ
Β Although we all suppressed our laughter, we all knew from that moment on that, try as she might with her despotism and her draconian anti-sneeze policy, Ms. Mormino didnβt stand a chance.Β
Β The arguable beginning of the end for Ms. Morminoβs all-too-brief reign of terror was the moment I asked for a calculator; mine was broken. Mormino asserted that I could only borrow a calculator if I loaned her something of mine; at that moment, the girl next to me chimed in, saying she, too, needed a calculator. βI have a folder I can give you,β I offered. βI have a highlighter,β added the other girl.Β
Β At that moment, a puberty-creaking voice from the back of the room piped up.Β
Max.Β
We all know certain people have certain gifts. Michelangelo saw angels in every block of marble and devoted his life to setting them free; Einstein had a mind which saw the potential of the entire universe; F. Scott Fitzgerald wove intricate tales of decadence and depravity. Max, however, had a different kind of gift: he could make anythingβanything at allβinto a βthatβs what she saidβ joke. More on that later, though.Β
Max pried off a Nike sneaker and held it proudly in the air, like a coveted trophy.Β
"I have a shoe."Β
Tottering in one-shoe-one-sock, Max dumped the sneaker on Ms. Morminoβs desk, retrieved a calculator, then tottered back to his own desk, a sort of smirk playing on his face. And, as to be expectedβthe rest of us quickly followed suit.Β
Β A small pile of shoes on her desk, Ms. Mormino grit her teeth and glared at us as we all sat back down, quietly victorious, a calculator in each of our hands. It wasnβt long, however, until we all began to silently plot our next act of minor mayhem.Β
"Can I go to the bathroom?" asked Tyler, who, despite being in seventh grade, was approaching his sixteenth birthday. In a combination of verism and admiration of Tylerβs devil-may-care boldness, we unequivocally accepted him as our leader. For reasons unknown, Ms. Mormino denied his request. Tyler, much like his Fight Club namesake, heeded no rules but his own and left anywayβMs. Mormino, furious, locked the door behind him and smugly insisted that "administration will take care of him."Β
Tyler, however, was not one to be caught, and stayed close by, appearing in the window of the door whenever Ms. Mormino wasnβt looking. Waving, smiling, laughing, making faces and obscene gestures, Tyler had us all in stitches, but cleverly avoided Ms. Morminoβs sightβwhen she asked us what was so funny, we all refused to give Tyler away.Β
A girl asked to go to the bathroom, stating she βreally really reallyβ needed to go. Ms. Mormino, again, denied her request. Ms. Mormino, however, seemed to be uninformed about the side doorβleading right outside, always locked from the outside but always open from the inside.Β
"Well, Iβll go myself," the girl responded, and took off, hurdling three desks and darting out the door. Right behind her, two other students took off, pursuing freedom. The door slammed behind all three students, and they were gone.Β
Β Six of us were left. Among us, importantly, was Chris.Β
Chris was thirteen, but looked half his age; scrawny, wiry, he probably measured in at about four-foot-three, but no taller. βLate Bloomerβ are words that come to mind.Β
Despite his diminutive size, Chris possessed the gall of someone like Tyler.
"I have to use the bathroom," said Chris, standing.Β
Β βDo you think Iβm going to allow you to go to the bathroom?β snapped Ms. Mormino.Β
Β βItβs an emergency!β Chris pleaded.Β
"Sit down," Ms. Mormino growled.Β
Meanwhile, the entire class borders on hysteria. We have tears in our eyes, almost suffocating from choking back laughter.Β
"Itβs an emergency," repeated Chris, but it sounded more like a warning.
"Sit."
Silence. Silence, Silence and more silence, until we all began to notice a dark stain on Chrisβs khakis. The stain grew. And grew. And grew.
Β Fists at his sides, stoicism in his face, and a cold, proud, triumphant glint in his eye, Chris locked eye contact with Ms. Mormino.Β
And pissed right in his pants.Β
The entire class erupted into a laugh only comparable to the detonation of a bomb.Β
We laughed so hard for the next five, ten, fifteen minutes straight that Ms. Mormino gave up. Surrendering, putting her head on her desk, she waited until the hysteria finally subsided.Β
Finally looking up, defeated, pathetic, Ms. Mormino glared at us all and wailed:Β
Β βThis is too much, this is too hard, too hard, Jesus Christ, this is too much for me!βΒ
Β A lone voice sounded from the back of the room. Guess whose it was.
"Thatβs what she said."
Ms. Mormino officially retired from teaching that afternoon.
FUCKING READ IT ITβS WORTH IT
OMG IβVE BEEN WAITING 2 YEARS FOR THIS GIF TO COME BACK. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE
lmfao . why do I love this so muchΒ ?
Yesss πΉ
One of the greatest songs of all-time. Hands down.
Is that t-pain in the last gif?
Weβre playing this at my wedding.Β
Fun facts about your sign here
Well ya know. π
shit
πππππ
Nooo
wow, I haven't been on tumblr in forevaaaaaa! ππππππππππππππππ