Thursday, December 16, 2004
Monsieur Croissant Head
In grade 10, my first year of Highschool, the school had this thing that once a month for half an hour you and about 4 other students would go and meet in a classroom with a teacher/'counselors' and talk about adjusting to highschool life. This meant a shortened lunch for us, and a longer lunch for everyone in grade 11 and up. You had to go, it was mandatory.My 'counselor' was Mr. Muller (German name with the umlots and all, and he's the fucker who, when I got home from going to school in France that year (I was living there on an exchange going to school), gave me my oral exam and told my French was too good and gave me a 50 percent, what the fuck? Of course my French is going to be good, I WAS LIVING IN A FRENCH COUNTRY, CALLED FRANCE, AND THE HOST FAMILY HELPED ME LEARN FRENCH BECAUSE THE CRAP YOU LEARN IN SCHOOL IS NOT HOW THEY SPEAK IT IN THE REAL WORLD. I DIDN'T OFTEN ASK FOR A POUND OF BUTTER AT THE DISCOTHEQUE).
Anyhoo, he had the craziest fucking hair ever. It was literally wrapped around his head, like a Croissant. It was so fucking bizarre and hair sprayed, I'm fairly certain if you touched his hair you'd be stuck to his head for life. He also always wore these really, really bright red shirts with tight ass white pants. I think he thought he was back in his German shit film days back in the 70's and it would translate well in the early 90's to Canadian highschoolers whom were familiar with shizer films.
Digressing here-
So, walking into one of these sessions, I walked past his seated little troll body, and got a look at the top of his head, and just couldn't believe that it was wrapped around his head and literally had a swirl on top. I started laughing and couldn't stop.
I sat down, red, shaking, tears streaking out of my eyes, and not containing myself well. A fellow inmate got the laughing bug from me, poor little Nick, and he started laughing his firm ass off (I was on the swim team with him and saw it in a speedo), and M. Croissant head was like "Isth there a problem?" and I was so bloody tempted to say "you bet there is, shit film" but I didn't, I was laughing too hard.
M.Croiss tried to ignore Nick and I, but he couldn't. He either thought we were laughing at the other kids, or on drugs, because we were kicked out, and never had to go back again. Me, mainly because I was leaving for France, and Nick because I think M. Ssant was possibly thinking of recruiting him for film work...
Read or Post a Comment
best regards, nice info »