Wednesday, May 26, 2004
When I was in primary school, there was an old hag there, lets call her CockEyed. She was the assistant headmistress. She later got promoted to Headmistress when the nice old lady headmistress retired. Thank God I was already in Secondary school when that happened. Chatting with Andy today, I learned that CockEyed had retired last year, after some 15 years in that school.
Ordinarily, I would say that any teacher who stays so long in the same place is dedicated to her students and to the teaching profession. Not CockEyed though. She was a disgrace to the teaching profession. And had no fucking idea how to teach kids. The kids in that school are damn lucky that they won't have to be governed under such a cow.
When I was in Standard 2, just 6 years old, I remembered I wasn't a very fast student. That means, I couldn't copy things from the blackboard that qucikly. Partly cause I was a hyperactive kid. I didn't like to sit still and copy stuffs. So most of the time when the teacher was copying things down, I would stare into space and look aroud daydreaming. Naturally, I would then not be able to copy the stuffs down in time before the teacher erases the blackboard.
The teacher was also another skanky bitch who is not fit to be given the distinguished and well respected title of "teacher". But I will blog about her another day. Anyways, that bloody pontianak (female ghost) of a
whore teacher was not too happy that I couldn't copy the stuffs down in time and she had to lend me other students books so that I could copy it. Though I don't know what the fuck the problem was, my Standard 1 teacher had no such problems. And I was much slower back then.
So Pontianak one day got pissed off and sent me to the headmistress office. Now, ordinarily, that wasn't too much of a problem, cause she was a nice sweet lady and would understand. But that day, she wasn't in. So I had to see CockEyed. The whore told CockEyed that I did not do my work. Which was partly true. But how the fuck could I do my work if I could not manage to copy it down?
I am a big fan of corporal punishment. But CockEyed was wrong. It was not my fault but she gave me a smack on the ass with a cane. To be honest, it wasn't much pain. Probably cause her big fat hands had high air resistance, ths slowing down the speed dramatically. She asked me to go back to class and warned me to do my work or else she would smack me again.
Now, obviously, I could not write much faster could I? Its not something that you could even if you tried. Two days later, the whore sent me to her again, and she gave me 2 smacks on the ass again. Machauhai. Not happy. Later, Pontianak got bored with me and didn't care whether I finished copying it or not and leaved me to do my own stuffs.
Fast forward 7 years later. I was in secondary school which shares the same compound as the primary school. Usually don't go home straight after school. We play football for about an hour in the field. After that, the whole school is almost deserted. After the game, we walked to the car park and we saw CockEyed's car there. Stupid woman had just been promoted to headmistress, so she probably had lots of work to do. Good.
My friend John wasn't too pleased with her from before. Apparently, she smacked his ass because he made a paper plane and threw it around. So we consipire to do something to make her regret her actions. But we are nice people you see. Scratching the car serves no purpose. Her car was covered in scratches and dents anyway. Puncturing the tyre was evil cause it would set her back a couple hundred ringgit. And we all know that a teacher's pay isn't that great.
John came up with an idea. He picked up a small pebble from the tar road. Opened the air valve cover for the tyre. Put the pebble in it and screwed it back in. Pssssssstt. Music to our ears. The pebble was pressing against the valve and letting the air escape. Then someone asked, what the fuck you guys do that for? Minor inconvenience only. Summore its not as though that fat bitch will change the tyre herself. Probably ask the school guard to change it for her. And we like the old guy so we didn't wanna trouble him.
Another guy, Bruce then suggested to let the air out of 2 tyres so that she can't get the security guard to change it anyway since the car has only one spare tyre. To which John said, "Fuck, might as well do all 4 tyres." Finally, I came up with a solution which everybody agreed upon. We let the air out of 3 tyres. Why 3? Because I am very kuai lan (fuck..dont know how to translate it, something like being obnoxious). The logic behind it : 3 causes the most inconvenience, but stopping short of being a total fucker. Sort of like a tongue in the cheek thing you know. No fucking idea what she did about it though.
Kids have a fucking long memory. They remember good teachers. I still remember the names of all my primary school teachers (except the std 4 teacher, cause she was nothing special). But they also remember all the hopeless unfair teachers which disgrace the noble profession. Those are the scumbags like Pontianak, where in 10 years time when I make my first million, I will hunt them down and tell them:
Vincent : Hey. You remember me? You taught me before. You punished me for no reason.
Pontianak : Yes, I hear you are successful now.
Vincent : Yes, but you in no way contributed to my success.