Miss Carrie’s Rock Collection
One day, during my junior English class, the teacher saw a book sitting on my desk. I had been going through a “serial killer-true crime”-phase that I’m still not completely out of. The title of the book was “In the Name of Satan”. She informed me that I should not bring a book of that nature into her classroom. Instead of letting it go after that, she just stood there next to my desk with her profound cunt lips beefing from the seam of her dress slacks right at nose level. She was pregnant and I was pretty sure I could smell baby powder dried placenta. With a cold stare, I looked up at her and said, “I’ll kill you, bitch.”
That earned me some much-needed detention. I loved detention because it allowed me to doodle sweet pics of bestiality and to write nonsensical rhymes in case I was ever shoved into the middle of a rap battle. Always prepared, I was.
Anyways, one day our entire class walked from her room to a computer lab. While walking there, my friend Scott started tossing pebbles at her from behind. We laughed and whatnot because we were immature. Two weeks later, our teacher had miscarried because she had a hole in her placenta. After that, we always joked that Scott had thrown a rock through her placenta, killing her baby.
To this day, we still laugh about it.
