A little about myself

I will forewarn the reader. This blog will be extremely disconcerting, at times revolting, and entirely non-sensical. Well, since I need to start somewhere, I may as well explain where my ridiculousness originates from. I went to a elementary school called Long Island School for the Gifted, affectionately called in retrospect as Long Island School for the Geeks. Of course the teachers at such a respectfully nicknamed prestigious school were a venerable hodgepodge of pure psychos.

One teacher stands out in my mind years later, tormenting my dreams with her satanic giggles. My 6th grade Science Teacher, Mrs. Shek. One particular day is like my mental pitchfork in a cow's rear end, noisy, flatulent, and quite excruciating. She ordered the class to bring in fluids from our fridges to test whether they were acidic or basic. Coming from an Asian family, I, of course brought soy sauce, sake, and pickled garlic juice. She presumed the pickled garlic juice was urine and proceeded to throw the hissy fit that will echo through through annals of history as the zenith of bitchiness. Not cool. This is the teacher who forced me to get glasses because I couldn’t read the board. However, when I finally did get them, I discovered it was because her handwriting was chicken scratch and not some fictitious malfunction with my brain. This is the same teacher who delightfully incinerated innocent gummy bears with a Bunsen burner, cackling with glee. My teachers during my formative years were not the stereotypical warm, endearing grade school teachers with a genuine maternal caring. My teachers were eccentric dwellers of the hippie era, most likely feeling the after effects of a decade of LSD abuse. My principal shared the same birthday as Hitler. This insanity trickled downwards, sort of like the imaginary economic system Reagan conjured in his head. The byproduct being me. Beware.