In which I mostly talk about gross stuff

First things first, a question for the WordPress folks: are you seeing a new big “Go Premium” button showing up constantly when you go to your dashboard?  Or am I just special?  I’ve hit a few traffic/followers/number of posts milestones recently, right around when I started noticing it, and the timing seems suspicious.  I’m wondering if they figure I’m a good target for the advertising.  (They’re right, and I’m probably doing it soon.)

Today featured projectile vomit.

That sentence originally had a comma and some follow-up afterwards, but really, whenever I can start a description of my day using the phrase “projectile vomit,” I probably really don’t need to elaborate a whole lot further.  It also featured a case conference for one of my massively autistic students (as opposed to my mildly autistic ones) that took place while the student in question went AWOL from class and spent the entire conference merrily roaming the halls and fleeing from security.  Which, honestly, ended up being rather convenient, as Mom was in the midst of proclaiming that she didn’t believe he really did that when I walked into the conference and let everyone know that I had no idea where the hell he was.  He’d fled the room when my back was turned.  He’s done it two or three times this week.  We thought we’d gotten the behavior under control over the last couple of months but it’s returned with a vengeance over the last couple of weeks for some reason.

I’ve already inflicted this on both Facebook and Twitter, so you may as well see it too:  PornMD has decided for some reason to give the world a webpage that does nothing but display a constant live-scrolling list of all the searches their website gets, which is twenty times more horrifying and engrossing than it sounds.  Especially great are the misspellings:  my favorite is “amiture deapthrought.”  Which was right before “grandpa fuck young guy” and “Italian feet,” which are spelled right but startlingly specific.  I saw a search yesterday for “Salieri”– just that word– which led me down a mental road where I was trying to figure out how classical music porn might work before discovering that both Mario and Kitty Salieri (no idea if they’re related) are porn stars.  I’ll, uh, leave it to you guys to Google that.

(Also, hilariously, PornMD’s Twitter account favorited and RT’ed my tweet about the site.)

But, yeah, right.  I was talking about projectile vomit.

(I’ve never typed that sentence before.)

It’s actually not much of a story, but one of my kids was being sluggish and sleepy all through class, which caused me to go over and make him sit up a few times.  To my detriment, I didn’t remember that his little brother, who is in my first and second hour class, was out sick today.  In my favor, the dummy coulda told me he was sick at any point during class and I’d have remembered his brother was out and I’d have sent him to the nurse immediately.  He got up at one point and got the trash can and brought it over next to his desk; I told him to take a walk, which is generally understood by my kids to mean “keep the damn trash can and head for the bathroom.”  For some reason he chose not to do that, instead going out into the hallway, without the trash can, which he set down by the door, waiting for me to have a perfect moment of attention and silence from my class, and then noisily and spectacularly upchucking in the hallway outside my room.  Go home, foolish boy, and if you come back tomorrow I’m going to be terribly annoyed with you.

Also, Jihad’s expelled again, for good this time, I believe.  He will not be missed.