slut bag electrons

today i called valence electrons "slutty." actually, i think i used the term "slut bags" and then remarked that i should be fired. every day.

and it appears as though the parents from hell have again risen from their pampered graves. there's one really special one that appears to have an excessive amount of free time on her hands and likes to send me four page emails. four page emails about how the science fair projects last year were 90% "dribble" (reminder: these kids are 12 and under), how demoralizing i am, how i have caused irreparable damage to her daughter and other children, how my standards are not high enough and she has established her own set of guidelines for her daughter to follow for the science fair (and is going to cause her daughter to bomb this project cus she has no idea what she is doing), and how she needs to stop her email message because she needs to dry the tears from her daughter's face, a daughter who apparently has never shed a fucking tear until she met me. me, the evil, evil science teacher who likes to take children's dreams and crush them under her stylish boots. crush them and then turn them into fertilizer for the garden where i plant and nourish the hopes and wishes of even more children, only then later to tear them out by whatever roots they may have established and feed them to packs of dogs that i have ripped the teeth out of. they mash these prematurely destroyed dreams between their gumless jaws and turn them into a paste of pain. a paste of pain that i lather on my veggie burgers and eat after long days of sucking the souls out of pre-teens. and did i mention that these dogs had dreams of their own? dreams of being winners at westminster. yeah? well, fuck you dogs. shi-tzus, pomeranians, i don't give a fuck. i'm a dream destroyer.