Shaddup Already!


I hate fireworks

Hi! I'm not new to diaryland, but I am new to saying exactly what I want to say--well, here at least. I have another weblog dedicated to my experience of training a service dog puppy. I have to keep that diary nice because I know of some children who read it. I also would like those children to be able to read it.

So, here's the scoop, I'm a 6th grade English teacher. What that means is I use really good grammar when I fill out the admittance forms for the mental health centers.

I hate firecrackers. I know that makes me un-American, but Bush already announced me a traitor when he claimed "you're either with us or against us." I'm sorry I don't believe in covering your ass because you were too stupid to see the threat of terrorism. I don't believe in using some horrific event to cover the fact that you want to avenge some wrong done to your daddy. I don't believe in saying "screw you" to all the countries who don't agree with your cross-eyed logic and need to maintain a reign of terror right here in the United States of (God Bless) America.

In short, I love George W. Bush.

He, he.

What I was saying before, I hate firecrackers. I don't understand the desire to stand outside with mosquitoes and blow things up. Maybe cuz I'm a girl. Who knows. I'm also concerned that my service dog in training is freaking out a little bit. I really hate them because my neighbors use any excuse to set them off. On legitimate firework holidays, I think they should take the night off. Hell, it's like they wake up and go, "Yay! It's Tuesday! Let's blow some stuff up!"

Happy Frickin' Birthday to America.

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