Thousands of teachers cited for sex misconduct
There's a terrible old joke that goes: A boy -- 10 or 11 years of age -- comes home from school and when his mother asks him about his day, he says, "I had sex with my teacher today." To which the mother is offended and outraged and says, "Go to your room until your father comes home!" Father comes home and is sent up to his son's room to confront the boy about lying. "No, really, Dad, I had sex with my teacher today." The father looks at the boy, looks out in the hallway to make sure the mother is nowhere near, then high-fives his son. "Good job!" Afterward, whenever the mom leaves the room while watching TV or getting something for the dinner table, the dad leans over to his son and asks, "Did you have sex with your teacher today?" The boy says yes and the father grins with pride. One day when the mom leaves the dinner table to answer the telephone, the dad leans over and asks his son if he'd had sex with his teacher that day. "No," the son sighs. "He wanted to, but my bum was too sore."
Of course, if I had a daughter and she was molested by some overheated under-matured monster, I'd want his head in a bucket under my desk. No question about it. If I had a son who suffered at the hands and flaming member of same, I'd want the molester caned until he looked like a man-shaped blueberry -- and then I'd want his head in a bucket underneath my desk. Kids are gonna grow up and have to deal with nagging, hen-pecking women-in-training and monster-truck-perpetual-infant-men -- and dodge them like malaria, let's hope -- so, clearly, they don't need the added trauma of pedophiles in their lives.
Pedophilia is real-world vampirism. Once a person is the victim of a pedophile, the odds of them becoming pedophiles skyrockets -- like the bite of the vampire turning victims into vampires. Pedophiles are incurable -- as are vampires of lore. Hence, pedophiles should either be subject to capital punishment for their crimes or at the very least, child molestation charges should carry actual life-sentences -- meaning, you molest even a single child one time, you're done in society. You're locked up. That's it.
So, it's vilely disconcerting to read in USAToday -- and elsewhere -- that there is a veritable epidemic of teachers having sex with students.
Although I write this particular blog post to state my ideas about what should be done to male child molesters and unattractive female predators, I will take a moment to let my freak flag fly and indulge in some inappropriate hypocrisy. To wit, look at these hotties at the right and tell me, guys, that when you were 11, 12, 13, etc., that you wouldn't have relished -- absolutely fucking relished -- one of these women simply running a finger along the back of your neck. Much less getting naked with them and carrying on depraved and bestial sex acts.
Certainly, there is the saying, "For every beautiful woman there is a guy somewhere who is sick of her shit." True. And it may well be the case that these lovelies and others not yet caught, are evil, manipulative and just plain fucking crazy. Yes, all of that may well be true. But for the love of all things holy, isn't being a young guy living in an absolute frenzy of hormones, titillating media, tantalizing female classmates, and then being one of the scant few who actually gets to make it with a steaming twenty-something vixen, it's own reward? Yet we call these women criminals.
It's easy to say such things from the comfort of my lifeguard chair in the Turks and Caicos Islands. I'm not subject to the dastardly pillow talk that follows one of these hot teachers ravishing some stunned and quivering 13 year old boy. But at a glance -- a superficial scan in their direction -- these woman look more like minxes than menaces.
All other wrongdoers abusing their power over children should be shackled and shamed in the public square. Every Catholic bishop who has enabled pedophile priests to continue banqueting on the innocents in their charge, should be placed in stocks and stoned. The bishop who confirmed me into the Catholic church was one such bishop, who transferred known pedophiles all over the place, providing them an endless supply of fresh meat
I merely blog, at this moment, about that one weird ray of light amid all of this squalor. I guess I'm saying, insensitively, naively, wrongly, that if I was going to have damage done to my life, I'd prefer it at the manicured hands of one of these four. And I speak only of me -- not you, your children or my neighbors or their children, or even my own children. I speak only for myself in this instance. O, to have encountered one of these Mrs. Robinsons when I was a teen.
There's a terrible old joke that goes: A boy -- 10 or 11 years of age -- comes home from school and when his mother asks him about his day, he says, "I had sex with my teacher today." To which the mother is offended and outraged and says, "Go to your room until your father comes home!" Father comes home and is sent up to his son's room to confront the boy about lying. "No, really, Dad, I had sex with my teacher today." The father looks at the boy, looks out in the hallway to make sure the mother is nowhere near, then high-fives his son. "Good job!" Afterward, whenever the mom leaves the room while watching TV or getting something for the dinner table, the dad leans over to his son and asks, "Did you have sex with your teacher today?" The boy says yes and the father grins with pride. One day when the mom leaves the dinner table to answer the telephone, the dad leans over and asks his son if he'd had sex with his teacher that day. "No," the son sighs. "He wanted to, but my bum was too sore."
Of course, if I had a daughter and she was molested by some overheated under-matured monster, I'd want his head in a bucket under my desk. No question about it. If I had a son who suffered at the hands and flaming member of same, I'd want the molester caned until he looked like a man-shaped blueberry -- and then I'd want his head in a bucket underneath my desk. Kids are gonna grow up and have to deal with nagging, hen-pecking women-in-training and monster-truck-perpetual-infant-men -- and dodge them like malaria, let's hope -- so, clearly, they don't need the added trauma of pedophiles in their lives.
Pedophilia is real-world vampirism. Once a person is the victim of a pedophile, the odds of them becoming pedophiles skyrockets -- like the bite of the vampire turning victims into vampires. Pedophiles are incurable -- as are vampires of lore. Hence, pedophiles should either be subject to capital punishment for their crimes or at the very least, child molestation charges should carry actual life-sentences -- meaning, you molest even a single child one time, you're done in society. You're locked up. That's it.
So, it's vilely disconcerting to read in USAToday -- and elsewhere -- that there is a veritable epidemic of teachers having sex with students.
Although I write this particular blog post to state my ideas about what should be done to male child molesters and unattractive female predators, I will take a moment to let my freak flag fly and indulge in some inappropriate hypocrisy. To wit, look at these hotties at the right and tell me, guys, that when you were 11, 12, 13, etc., that you wouldn't have relished -- absolutely fucking relished -- one of these women simply running a finger along the back of your neck. Much less getting naked with them and carrying on depraved and bestial sex acts.
Certainly, there is the saying, "For every beautiful woman there is a guy somewhere who is sick of her shit." True. And it may well be the case that these lovelies and others not yet caught, are evil, manipulative and just plain fucking crazy. Yes, all of that may well be true. But for the love of all things holy, isn't being a young guy living in an absolute frenzy of hormones, titillating media, tantalizing female classmates, and then being one of the scant few who actually gets to make it with a steaming twenty-something vixen, it's own reward? Yet we call these women criminals.
It's easy to say such things from the comfort of my lifeguard chair in the Turks and Caicos Islands. I'm not subject to the dastardly pillow talk that follows one of these hot teachers ravishing some stunned and quivering 13 year old boy. But at a glance -- a superficial scan in their direction -- these woman look more like minxes than menaces.
All other wrongdoers abusing their power over children should be shackled and shamed in the public square. Every Catholic bishop who has enabled pedophile priests to continue banqueting on the innocents in their charge, should be placed in stocks and stoned. The bishop who confirmed me into the Catholic church was one such bishop, who transferred known pedophiles all over the place, providing them an endless supply of fresh meat
I merely blog, at this moment, about that one weird ray of light amid all of this squalor. I guess I'm saying, insensitively, naively, wrongly, that if I was going to have damage done to my life, I'd prefer it at the manicured hands of one of these four. And I speak only of me -- not you, your children or my neighbors or their children, or even my own children. I speak only for myself in this instance. O, to have encountered one of these Mrs. Robinsons when I was a teen.
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