Rapalicious Miss

Once again, let me apologize for being an ass.
I am sorry. I am an ass. I have neglected you for far too long and you have every right to smite me and give me leprosy. Or thumb your nose at me. Or some other such nonsense.

To get you to forgive me, I shall now write several entries. To delight you. Or, more so, to get myself out of this terrible, terrible mood I'm in. But more on that later.

I know it's been a horribly long time since I've written, and if you're a follower with any decent sort of regularity (or lack there of as I've been said ass), you know that about me by now-- I get all caught up in the moment and can't escape. Only for me, moments are like weeks.

Have hijinks ensued? Of course. Just today, while having story time, when my Smart board screen went black, instead of saying "could you put that back on please?" I looked at particularly sexually charged group of 8th graders and said "Could one of you tap that?"

Tap that.

Which, in the world of 8th graders is slang for... well, you know. Or, you should if you are in the know at all. Watch any ho-rap video.
What did they do? Cracked up. Rolled on the floor with tears in their eyes. No joke. (Course, we were on the floor to begin with so it wasn't much of a stretch for them to get there.) I, naturally, could NOT laugh as that would mean owning up to the fact that I'd realized what I'd said.
No, Leslie, I do not want you to have wild and dirty sex with the Smart board. *smacking forehead*

Also, I had earlier planned a rap-off with one of my fellow teachers. But, as life has it, we both got busy. I have my rap written, but do I have it memorized? Nope! Do I have my ghetto-fabulous outfit planned? Nope! Do I have my cheering hoard of fans... well, yes. Yes I do.

I had thoughts about not posting my raptastic-writing here as I know my fantastical team-mate does read this blog and wanted the rap to be a surprise.... but at this point.... well, its just too good to leave the rest of you waiting. So, for your utter amusement (moreso if you actually know the Wondrous Faulkster):

Mr. Faulk's Rap:...

Mr. Faulk be sayin’ that
I’m an albino
but rhino’s have more
flavor to savor than this
Florida native
who’s got less color
than vapor.

Rockin’ out polos,
Faulk be swinging solo
tryin to ride the
gansta wagon
sock pulled up neat
draggin’ feet and
and leanin’ like a cholo.

His pick up lines
lay lame like a possum,
a bit of a late blossom,
Fresh Prince of Glendale
since lederhosen was
awesome.
Oh wait I forgot
that’s never been in style
I kid you not
this mama’s boy’s got it
off by a mile.

Roots and suffxes
have him lustin’,
before class
busting out moves with
sass wondering where his
homies be at.
Sayin’ “What up dawg?”
wishin’ he was wearing a
backwards hat to cover
that forehead,
fillin’ me with dread
every time I see it
gleaming, beaming light
and waking up the
dead.

He’s so tough
bees flee when they see
that grin on his face
displacing his
scowl when he’s playin’
at being serious.
Or maybe
his fearful flailing displaces
all perilous insects from their
original places.
Either way, spiders
bees and outsiders
make him whirl,
spinnin’ and screamin’ like
a little school girl.

Hope he can spit
back rhymes like
a viper but thinkin’
he’s all hype and
hyper so far singing
only one line at a time.
What skills he’s got, its not
clear, so far only
“ain’t gonna be no
grindin’ up in here.”

Gimme a breath mint.
For a minute
hint that I smell
well, bring it on, Greggy
keep talking’ crap
but now you know that
this white girl can rap.

All's I gotsta do is add a "word, yo" at the end. That'll make me genuine, right? That and a pair of giant hoops that have my name curled in them in giant swirling script. Oh yes. I am 1) and ass but 2) also a badass. Right?...