63rd Post

Mr Nieto

That's what the kids call me. It's actually cool because they give me that respect they give teachers and unfortunately talk shit behind my back, but i don't care. I'm Mr. Nieto.
"Mr. Nieto, can you help me with my uber hard trig stuff" SOITENLY, ña-ña-ña. It feels good to help those kids.

I say kids like they are 10 year olds. In reality i think some of them have done more coke than i have. It's funny being in a class full of dumn ass kids. Most days while making fun of the retard kid who thinks that old faded jeans, an old faded denim shirt, a "Thin Lizzie" shirt, and PERMED hair is the look to go with; I look back and say to myself, "I hope i wasn't that much of a tool when i was a freshman"
[A side note about that kid. Fuck he pisses me off. Ok, this kid is one of those dumn shit guys who thinks he is smart because he manages to get the meaning of fucking "The Matrix" (i know, i know it's an old analogy but still a classic benchmark). The reason he pisses me off is that he really thinks he is in the same league as the "Cute" girl in class. This dumn shit will go up to her, make "casual" conversation about, her hair being better today than yesterday while he flips his hair out of his face that somehow manages to highlight his overbite crooked excuse for a smile. Cut your hair hippy!]

So i was on myspace (SHOCK!) and i started thinking. How many of those kids i tutor have one of these god-forsaken-excuse-for-a-social-life-site-thing-dash? It turns out, all of them. I am scared to even mention it now. I know one of them will hunt me down and buddy me up then mention it in class, thus making a weird uncomfortable situation between all of us, until i hit up the hawt chick in class making me the king of the school!

or maybe i'm just full of it.

-!!