Monday, December 18

"Don't You Go Forgetting About Me."

Only losers wear backwards baseball caps.
(If you want to skip this news article, complete with witty banter, it's your loss. But please, for the love of God, take the time to scroll down to where it says 'STORY!' You're not going to want to miss this. Also, reading the news article will enhance your enjoyment of said story.)

FORT COLLINS, CO. - High school teacher Carrie McCandless carried on a romance with a 17-year-old student, which included the exchange of 76 text messages in a single day, according to her arrest affidavit.

(Hey, what grown woman wouldn't be lust-struck by a 17-year old boy? The way their acne shines off of the fluorescent lights, the way that they constantly smell like French fries and Brute, the way that everything on the planet gives them an erection. It's like Spanish Fly with a crooked baseball cap.)

The teacher also supplied the students she was chaperoning on a late-October field trip with alcohol and "did everything except have sex" with the male student during the outing, the affidavit said.

(Everything? Did they go hang-gliding? Did they play dueling pianos? Was there a Yak somehow thrown into the mix?)

McCandless' behavior during that weekend ultimately led to felony charges against her of sexual assault on a child by one in a position of trust and contributing to the delinquency of a minor by providing at least one student with alcohol. The 29-year-old was fired from the Brighton Charter High School where her husband, Chris McCandless, is principal.

(This story just keeps getting better. You thought that the students treated the Principal like a douchebag before this incident? Well, let's just say that the respect won't be arriving in droves after these facts get out. For a student, screwing around with the Principal's wife is just about the greatest thing you can do, second only to airlifting his Lexus onto the school's roof and setting it ablaze.)

McCandless was formally advised of the charges against her in Larimer County District Court on Tuesday. The affidavit, which was unsealed after the hearing, details what allegedly happened on the overnight hiking trip with about a half-dozen students and how the school reacted to the situation.

(What school allows a teacher to take 6 kids on an overnight hiking trip? Just 6?)

School officials did not report the incident to police, who first learned about it from a television reporter. Former school board chairman David Mundy Sr. has been charged with tampering with at least three witnesses or victims and failing to report child abuse.

(Oh, I see. This is the kind of school we're talking about. Essentially, every school I've ever attended. Corrupt, rich, bald, white guys with a stick up their ass and a complete disdain for youth.)

Mundy resigned from the board on Friday. The remaining board members have reassured Brighton school district officials, who hold their charter, that similar incidents would be reported immediately in the future.

(So, they're pretty much admitting that this sort of thing will happen again. I love Fort Collins!)

The boy has told police that he started calling and text messaging McCandless in early October, when they started planning the trip and was "very excited."

(Teacher Rule #1 - Don't give your cell phone number to students, unless you plan on giving them "everything except sex.")

Phone records reveal that McCandless and the boy exchanged 76 text messages on Oct. 10, according to the affidavit.

(Student Rule #1 - STOP SPILLING THE BEANS, YOU'RE RUINING IT FOR EVERYONE. I know it's exciting and all, but if you tell someone, the fun will end. It's a fact of life.)

In one exchange, the boy wrote that he was cold, and she responded, "Just pretend you're here, sweating with me."

(Okay, that's seriously the hottest thing I've read in a long time. Can we get a mugshot, anyone?)

On the afternoon before the school trip to Estes Park, McCandless and the boy "made out" in a car outside a Sam's Club for about 45 minutes, he told police.

(They made out in bulk, and saved lots of money! I suppose they had to move all the 5-gallon drums of Mayonnaise out of the backseat beforehand. They're bulky, but cheap as hell; just like this teacher! ZING!)

The next morning, Carrie McCandless, the boy, and about a half-dozen other students drove to Estes Park and went on a hike. During the hike, McCandless and the boy lagged behind, the affidavit said.

(You'd be tired, too, if you spent all last night making out in bulk. My personal record is 18.4 seconds.)

The boy brought a bottle of Everclear grain alcohol on the trip, and he told police "they were all drinking." He said McCandless also "brought up a bottle of Jack Daniels for them to drink" and shared it with him.

(Clearly, the boy isn't as innocent as the prosecutors want him to be portrayed as. This is probably going to be the single greatest experience of his teen life, so why send people to jail over it? Everclear is essentially poison, by the way. Don't drink it.)

Other students told police that they observed McCandless and the boy sneaking away repeatedly, presumably to smoke and drink, for 30 to 45 minutes at a time.

(This McCandless woman isn't a very tactful and experienced seducer. Get creative; don't just sneak away! Fake a heart attack and have him 'drive you to the hospital.' Where's the excitement?)

That night, after the other students had gone to bed, McCandless and the boy "made out" on the floor in the front room of the cabin, where another boy was sleeping on a nearby couch. The boy involved with McCandless later told police that they simulated sex with their clothes on.

(Okay, forget what I said before. This is the hottest thing I've read in a long time. If I were the boy that was pretending to sleep on the couch, I would have sprung up and outed them like nobody's business. There's no way I'm going to let this chance at a free 'A' pass me by. Blackmail makes the world go 'round.)

They "did everything except have sex" and it was obvious to everyone what was going on, a friend of the boy's told police.

(Seems pretty obvious from here, as well. Perhaps she wanted to get caught, as a way to get back at her Principal husband for some reason. Beats me, but I need a shower.)

Hey, we found a photo!

Well, there you go.

Interesting. Very interesting. Allow me to share a quick theory with you.

Women like Carrie (or any of these female teachers, for that matter) aren't in love or even lusting after these teenage boys that they educate. They're not trapped in a loveless marriage or living a life of lonely singlehood. All of these teachers have been reasonably good-looking, and would have no problem picking up any guy in any bar in any city in the nation. For women like Carrie, meeting men who want to sleep with them is not a problem. Hell, for any woman, it's not a problem.

There's only one reason someone would risk their career to do something like this. There's only one reason a woman would negate meeting adults the normal way, and carrying on a typical relationship like we all do. There's only one reason someone would do something like this.

They're crazy. Plain and simple. That's the only way this makes sense. Let's elaborate, shall we?


Rockin' the vest.
(A blurry photo of the CDP in Grade 8. I was too lazy to run this through the scanner.)

When I was in the 8th grade, I met a student teacher named Sheila, who had arrived from a neighboring college. Over the course of the next several weeks, Sheila and I bonded; mainly in that I was the only student mature enough to have a decent conversation with her. She was learning the thankless ropes of the Middle School, she wasn't getting through to the students and faculty, and she longed for someone, anyone to share typical thoughts and feelings with.

We swore in front of each other. We talked after class and walked in the halls. We even sat next to each other at some of the football games. I was starting to like Sheila as more than a teacher, but was still smart enough to know that I was in the 8th grade. Clearly, she was humoring me, or simply being nice to the one student that she 'got through' to. I wasn't an idiot; I knew that this was sort of a weird relationship we were having, and soon it would end. I mean, she was only a handful of years older than me, but the difference between 14 and 20 might as well have been an eternity.

As the weeks rolled on, something interesting started to happen. Thinking that Sheila was solely being nice to me from a student-teacher perspective, I started to ignore her. I stopped trying to run into her in the hallways, and I stopped chatting with her after class. I didn't want to look like an idiot with a crush, so I decided to stop leading myself into inevitable heartbreak (I later went on to lead myself into heartbreak multiple times in High School). Amazingly enough, she then started to seek me out, wanting just to talk about things that had nothing to do with school. This relationship was now being initiated by her, and quite astonishingly, she was no longer acting like my student teacher.

This conflicted me to no end, as you can imagine. It made no sense whatsoever. For a teenage boy of my age, this kept me up all night, frantically attempting to understand the validity and nature of the situation. Don't get me wrong, it was exhilarating, but mostly just confusing as hell.

Students had been talking about me and Sheila for a while at this point; it was difficult to overlook that I was spending more time around her than I was with my friends. I recall one night at a football game, me and her were sitting together and talking in the highest row of bleachers, when a couple of my friends showed up. They asked me if I wanted to leave the game early and spend the night at one of their houses. I politely declined, as I was getting to know Sheila better and almost always chose women over close friends. A minute after they left, she gave me a hug, silently thanking me for choosing her over them. The next day, the same friend that invited me over said, "You're either doing one of the dumbest things I've ever seen, or one of the coolest." Then he started getting saying filthy things, and I tuned him out.

Sheila's last day at my school culminated with a dance in the gymnasium. She was there, acting as a chaperone for wee children like myself. I was feeling down, mainly because I knew I would never see her again. Regardless of how she may or may not have felt about me, I was still sad to see her go. Part of me felt like she was merely screwing with me; using me as a martyr for all of the other students that treated her like crap. Because of their folly, I would suffer. Still, another part of me felt as if she genuinely liked me, and I was about to miss out on the chance of a lifetime. Yet another part of me thought that she was mistaking me for a Special Need student, and she was merely doing her part as a humanitarian to make sure I didn't swallow my tongue.

I did my best to act as invisible as possible that night. I didn't dance, I didn't run around like crazy with my friends, and I didn't spend all of my Mom's money on candy bars. I sat under the bleachers, keeping my eye on Sheila at all times, wishing there was something I could do to temporarily stop time. When I saw her interacting with all of the students, saying goodbye and mingling, I felt deflated. That's when a friend came over to me, and broke the news.

"Hey, did Miss _____ find you yet?"

"What? No. Why?"

"She's been looking for you all night, dude. She's asking everyone where you are."


"Yeah. You better go talk to her."

I really didn't want to talk to her. I mean, what was the point? One of two things was about to happen. Either she would thank me for being such a good student and walk away, or she would throw her arms around me, kiss me, and still walk away. No matter the case, I'd be hurt, regardless of how much I prepared myself not to be. There was no getting out of this one.

When Sheila saw me walking toward her, her eyes lit up as she ran in my direction. Just then, a slow song started blaring through the gymnasium, as couples started to pair off.

"I don't have anyone to dance with," she whispered. "Where have you been?"

I was all set to say, "Well, I've been hiding under the bleachers like a child because I have a crush on my student teacher who's been sending me mixed messages for three months and I don't want to look like an idiot and I wish I knew what was really going on but you're leaving tonight and I'm never going to see you again and I'm just a dumbass kid that doesn't understand how to act in situations like this so I'm just going to call my Mom and have her pick me up and take me home."

I didn't have a chance, though, because as soon as I opened my mouth, she grabbed me by the arm and kissed me.

Shocked, I took a couple of steps back. I looked around to see if anyone else caught a glimpse, but it appeared as if the coast was clear. Sheila again stepped closer, staring me down and acknowledging the slow song by tilting her ear to the ceiling and saying, "Do I hear you calling my name?"

By this point, the song was all but fading out, but she still interlocked with me and swayed until there was silence.

"I'm going to miss you," she said. "Don't you go forgetting about me."

"Me, too" was all I could muster. Looking back, I'm well aware that it made no sense.

As we said goodbye to each other, I (in a moment of bizarre bravado and charm) held her right hand and kissed it, chivalry-style. It was simultaneously the strangest and most romantic thing I've probably ever done as a teenager.

Before I knew it, one of the weirdest chapters of my life was over. Sheila was gone, and I never saw her again.

Do you want to know why?

Because she was quite obviously crazy, that's why. My aforementioned theory works, because I've experienced it first-hand. Looking back, I remember the way she acted very clearly. And yes, she honestly did like me as more than a student, but it was because she was nuttier than a squirrel's breakfast.

That doesn't make it any less amazing, though. It was a lot of fun while it lasted. I also realize that I end a lot of my essays with "...and I never saw her again."

However, if I knew then what I know now, I would have taken more advantage of her than you could ever imagine. I consider it a lost opportunity, and I also consider myself an asshole with no moral compass.

Just recalling this story is making me shake my head in disbelief.

How's that for Sweeps Month?

WEDNESDAY: The Best & Worst Of 2006!
FRIDAY: The Best Comments Of 2006!

Hey, I actively pursued teachers in HIGH SCHOOL for goodness sake. (even if only for a laugh) Poor Mr. Coonen...he will likely never forget reading our questionnaires re: why we took psychology out loud in front of the class, only to turn red and be forced to stop when he got to my answer sheet. Hey, everyone ELSE was saying he was hot behind his back so I figured someone ought to just TELL him that's why we were all taking the stupid class...
It's different when the teacher is a man and the student is a woman.

Don't ask why, it just is.

Ha... Coondog...

The first Peak Overpressure show was a huge success! See the myspace page soon for some videos of us. Rock!

Being on stage is the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. Plus, I had plenty of girls that wanted to go home with me. I could take my pick!
and there you have it. The number one (possibly only) reason guys play in bands.
It's how I met my wife. It's a pretty sweet deal.

Thanks for hijacking the thread, by the way. Nah, I'm just kidding.
Since we've gone completely off topic, I wanted to mention the WWE Pay-Per-View I ordered tonight.

There was a Ladder Match, where one of the competitors took a ladder shot that more or less destroyed his face. Busted nose, eye swollen shut, multiple lacerations. As soon as he lifted his head up, blood was pouring like a faucet from his face, and they rushed him to the hospital (they actually said that during the broadcast, breaking character and everything).

The early report is that best case scenario, he'll need plastic surgery and be out for 2 months. Worst case scenario, this injury caused brain damage due to the bashing of his nasal cavity.

Me and the Missus were slack-jawed. I've seen a lot of pro wrestling accidents and whatnot, but this freaked me right the hell out. I thought he had honestly torn his nose off, and his left eye was 100% swollen just seconds after the accident.

It was pretty messed up, and I felt like I wanted to puke for about an hour afterwards. Worse still, one of the other guys botched a move towards the end of the match and clearly suffered a concussion, as was witnessed by him wiping vomit off of his face. I've probably seen over 300 matches this year, and this was about the most out-of-control thing I've ever seen in a Sports Entertainment venue.

So yeah, I had to tell someone because it was really quite disturbing. If anyone has a hard time suspending disbelief for professional wrestling, this match would have sold you. It looked completely unscripted, damn near everyone got legitimately injured, and I kind of thought that everyone was going to die.

It was absolutely breathtaking. Match of the year, hands down.

Screw you guys; I kissed my teacher.
That's just how we Millers's roll. Swoop in for the kill, and leave them wanting more.

See, but I got to kiss Coon-dog, so you all suck.
"Two Sets of Eyes"... from the show Saturday, one of our originals. Yes, I'm using you for blatant self promotion. I'm allowed to, I'm a rock star.
Speaking of pro wrestling, I still remember the night Owen Hart, aka the Blue Blazer died. That was messed up.

As for teachers, There were no hot teachers or teachers assistants at any of my schools, so I missed out on a potentially soul-scarring tryst...
Nice video, RJ. The stage presence was good, your gee-tar playing skills have always been terrific, and the crowd was on your side. Keep it up.

By the way, RJ, our midget friend made an appearance at the show and kicked himself square in the face. Then he fell over and was thrown back under the ring.

Quick update on that wrestler. He needed 18 stitches for a broken nose, but luckily he suffered no other long-lasting injuries. That makes me feel a lot better; it looked like he was shot in the face when he took that hit. Pretty much everyone online said it was the grisliest thing they've seen in a ring.

Owen = Awesome. That night was horrible, I agree.

JT, sorry that you missed out on a forbidden tryst. While it's a good story to tell people, it was more confusing than anything. I guess I don't really recommend it, unless you're attracted to trauma, which I obviously am.
And to think you weren't going to order this PPV!

Good thing your wife was scared of missing a ween on live TV!
No more ween talk, 'kay?

Sorry I don't have an ilicit student/teacher relationship to share. You have to admit that the occurance is so rare (not for any slack on the male student end, the willing female teacher seems to be the limiting factor)that the phenomenon is almost instantly regarded as mythic. Or in a case like yours, legendary.
My case was weird because I was sought out by her. Obviously, we didn't do anything together that I would call 'news-worthy,' but nonetheless, it's a rare occurance.

I can't wait until I get my own TV show, and I can turn all of these stories into 22 minute turds that will be sandwiched in between car commercials.
I'm pretty pissed that I don't remember this teacher. I do, however, still have that school picture of you. You even signed the back of it.

And I'm going to guess that the schoolmate making filthy comments to you was Dale. I could be wrong.
It was Dale, though.
I've never looked as good as I did in the 8th grade. Everyone knows it, so I'm not too upset about it. I had more vests than any straight man should own.

When I tell some of these stories, Kenny, I have to protect the anonymity of the involved parties. It's what's kept me from sharing pretty much everything that's ever happened to me from 1990-2000. I need to keep everything vague enough so I don't get e-mails.

So unofficially, it wasn't Dale.
By the way Kenny, I had a dream about you last night. We were in a Guitar Hero tournament together.
I'm thinking there will be a sequel down the road. With the words "not-Dale's email to me" in it.
Yep; I'm killing friendships left and right this month.
I also dream of playing Guitar Hero, so I see that we are on the same psychic plane.
I wish that life was nothing more than playing Guitar Hero. I'm...I'm barely human anymore.
I had a dream that I was telling off Sherry & Amy's boss at the Christmas Tree shop where they worked. I said he was a poor excuse for a human being.
Christmas Tree shop?

Anyway, as a student teacher, I can say that I am very tempted by the male-student population here. They flirt with me, and it's so flattering. One guy actually made kissy noises at me yesterday- isn't that sexual harrassment? Some of the more musically inclined students turn me on because they share my passion, and they're so young! Some are really, really sexy, but I will resist the urge!

By the way, that student teacher could have gotten into HUGE- I'm talking HUGE trouble. Complete with a apology letter to all involved and no teacher certification.
That's what I said! I said to Ryan, "and Sherry got into trouble for a misconstrued comment???" Sheesh...good thing Ryan didn't go tattling on her.

Good thing you're going to be teaching elementary, Sherry...I can see you having lots of male-student issues :)
How did you obtain that horrific depiction of your 8th grade picture? Is that from the yearbook?
I didn't tell anyone about my Teacher Fling because I'm not a dumbass. Why risk ruining the good thing you have going just to impress a few friends? That's insane, and I knew it. These kids today should know it, too.

Way to go, ya' idiot. You got her fired, and she stopped sleeping with you. Smooth.

"Did you see the way he knew the difference between a first and second triad inversion? God, I want to romp him!"

I got the 8th Grade photo from the yearbook, and held it up to the iMac camera, by the way.
In a somewhat-related incident, I did a semester of student teaching my senior year in high school. I taught seventh-grade Social Studies.

A month or so ago I was approached and hugged by an extremely tasty young thing. I felt certain she had me mistaken for someone else, because I had no idea who she was, and she was, to be blunt, way out of my league.

It turned out that she remembered me as her student teacher over ten years ago, and proceeded to give me her number...what an ego boost.

It should be noted that I never called, as she is younger than my little sister, and also I lost the number.
A similar thing happened to me. As a Senior, I did student teaching with 6th graders. The big difference was that the girl in question liked me then, but never sought me out when she became an adult.

Good thing I made out with her when she was in the 6th grade, or I would have really regretted the lost opportunity.

I'm laughing my ass off right now.

Way to go, by the way. Not just the fact that you can still woo the young ladies, but that you're cool enough to realize it's probably not a good idea.

I should point out that I probably would have no luck actually wooing the younger ladies without the help of my younger, hipper image already embedded in their brains.

On another note, it's amazing the way my drunken brain works. I realize it's bad to pursue someone barely 21, but am perfectly okay with using powertools to craft a star made out of PBR cans for the top of my Beer-mas tree.

I'll post pictures of it later.
The only reason I still have friends is because of the way I looked in the 8th grade. I'm not fooling anyone anymore.

As you get older, your priorities change. Women are plentiful and there are billions of them worldwide.

Beer-mas, however, comes only once a year.
Every day is Beer-mas in Wisconsin.
Beer-mas is my favorite time of year. It even surpasses football season, because while we may not all agree on teams, we can all agree on one simple equation:

Beer = Good

'Tis the season.
Yet another part of me thought that she was mistaking me for a Special Need student, and she was merely doing her part as a humanitarian to make sure I didn't swallow my tongue.

This is the best sentence I've read all week.

(P.S. - I'm working on a new post, to be here soon after all this time...)
Thanks for reading the whole thing, Todd. I honestly did think she thought I had something wrong with me. It was a much more plausible explanation than "She digs me."

Cheers to working on a new post. As I was archiving the best comments of 2006 today, I realized that the CDP would be a lot less funny without you and Paste around.
As I was archiving the best comments of 2006 today, I realized that the CDP would be a lot less funny without you and Paste around.

Aw, shucks...

*tossles my own hair*
Yeah, I guess I'm feeling a bit fancy today. Must be holiday cheer. Or the Vicodin.

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