Me, Myself, and Eye

WARNING: Do not read further if you are the squeamish type or
do not like eyes. You have been warned. If you chose to continue,
you are doing so ABA (Against Blogger's Advice).

My work day began with Mr. S crashing my party. By party, I
mean my daily struggle to impart some knowledge and a socially
acceptable work ethic on my students. Not the kind of party with
cake and balloons and presents, or the kind of party with drinks
and dancing and a lampshade on your head.

Mr. S had a picture to show me. I will show you. IF you dare to
look. It is disturbing. I do not think it is real. Supposedly there is
evidence to support it. I am skeptical. Look if you must. HERE.
Eewwww! I know. I didn't have much choice. Mr. S thrust it
under my nose. He flipped his lid (his briefcase lid, he was not
angry, silly, he has first hour planning period, he wasn't even
warmed up for being angry). He did not want the students to
see it. He has still not recovered from taking his students to the
library, where they showed him a British commercial with a cat
being decapitated by a car's sunroof. Hey, he should do some
cooperative teaching with Mr. K, who has "decapitated" as
one of his vocabulary words this week. I think we need to add
something to the filter thingy so a decapitation brings up the
schoolbus. Shame, shame, everybody sees your schoolbus.
Quit going to those decapitation sites.

Anyhoo, this is a picture of a kitten with one eye. It looks like
half monkey and half kitten to me, but more like an alien than
anything else. I would have preferred not to start my day with
that image in my little pea-brain, but the damage was done.

Back when the Television Without Pity website had weekly
recaps of ER, they had a reviewer who could not stomach
eyes. She would refer 'eyes' as 'toes' so as not to conjure up
that image again when writing about it. It went a little something
like this. Maybe it all started because she saw a picture like that
little kitty. Or maybe she was just a freak. We'll never know.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the eyes followed me wherever
I went today. A couple of kids got mad at the Miraculous Mime
(hey, it was "Dress as a superhero day" for homecoming week)
and would not accept my offer of help with "Lord of the Flies",
preferring to answer the questions without reading the chapter.
That gave me time to answer "how do you spell..." every 20
seconds for 3 kids typing up a letter to an elected official for
their Civics assignment. Yes, it took 3 of them to type one kid's
letter. It's called 'spellcheck' students. Look into it. Anyhoo, after
they got to changing the fonts to see which was most inappropriate,
I had time to gather my information for my yearly Program Report
to the school board that's coming up this month. THAT meant I
had time to read some of The Night Stalker during my plan time.

Ooh! There were the eyes again. If you have read this far, you
may yet have a squeamish attack. Eyeballs ahead. Proceed if
you dare.

Richard Ramirez was in the middle of killing victims 3 & 4, a
married couple. The Mr. was already toast. He never knew what
hit him, sleeping on the couch when a .22 bullet made that nap
last for eternity. The Mrs. was asleep in bed. She woke up when
Ramirez was stabbing her. He tied her hands with a necktie so
he could deal with her after ransacking the bedroom for valuables.
She was a 45-year-old lawyer, and carried a handgun in her
purse, which was out of reach. She knew her husband kept a
shotgun under the bed, because after they were robbed the year
before, he declared that if that robber came back, he would fill
him full of lead. Guess who the robber was. Thanks for playing
along. It WAS Ramirez. He had come back to the house because
they had lots of money.

The Mrs. wriggled out of the necktie handcuffs, rolled off the bed,
and grabbed the shotgun. Ramirez heard her, turned around, and
looked down the barrel of that shotgun. Man, was he PISSED!
The nerve of that b****, to trying to kill HIM! He reached for
the shotgun, and she fired. CLICK. Her husband had taken out
the shells because the grandkids had been over for the weekend.
Ramirez threw her on the bed, took out his .22 pistol, and shot her
3 times in the head. THEN he did something really bad, after
stabbing and carving on her for a while. This is your last chance
to stop. Don't read on if you're squeamish!

Ramirez cut off her eyelids, and cut out her eyes. He put them
in a small jewelry box and put them on the passenger seat of his
car. During his two-block rush to the freeway, a police car started
to follow him. He knew Satan would protect him for being so evil.
But as extra insurance, just in case, because a serial killer can't be
too careful, he had put an "America: Love it or Leave It" bumper-
sticker on his stolen car. He thought cops were hardworking,
patriotic fellows who would give a fellow American a break. It
must have worked. He got away with those brown peepers in
the box on the seat. Can't you hear the cop interrogating him?
It might have gone a little something like this: "Jeepers, creepers.
Where'd ya get them peepers? Jeepers, creepers, where'd ya get
them eyes?"

I hope I can sleep tonight.