the last word (tm)

Vol. 17/No. 5 - 450th issue - November 27, 2008 - - Bellevue, Kentucky
Blog blogga blogs at and


"You're fiiiiirrrrred!!!" (That's spoken in the manner of the guy on The Simpsons whose face shakes.)

Or not???

I attended over 10 different schools from kindergarten through college, and The Last Word has been on the case of quite a few of them - not unjustifiably, I might add. After several of these schools not only tolerated but outright encouraged harassment, few things would've made me happier than seeing their administraitors (sic) fired.

Now there's a strong chance it may have finally happened - probably because I kept exposing the so-called educator in question. I'm not going to say which school or which administrator, because I'm only 90% sure that my work is what led to his apparent retirement. However I strongly suspect that his bosses said to him, "Um, after all that bullying stuff, we'd really appreciate it if you don't renew your contract." Maybe - just maybe - they saw how his regime affected me and others, and thought it would be best if he didn't stay on board. Believe me, I had exposed that man. Big time!

If you're a school principal, and someone writes a book about their experiences with school harassment (as I did), and a significant portion of the volume is devoted to your actions, that's not good for your career. At all!

When I found out this right-wing clod was out of a job (possibly because of my work), it was one of those very rare moments that seemed too good to be true. So much so that I didn't know what to say.

This has been the year of change. For starts, I participated in a series of roadside protests that helped get an abusive teen "rehab" that had been operating for some 25 years shut down. Then there was that decisive election (which was practically nullified when Robert Gates was allowed to stay on, but that's another matter). This was also the year my Online Lunchpail blog overtook The Last Word. And now this!

About a year ago, another school administrator who I had negative dealings with also retired. At the time, I didn't think my work exposing him had anything to do with it, but because he was relatively young, I can't discount the possibility that this was a forced retirement.

Both of the inept fartpipes discussed here deserved to be fired long ago. But I'm so acclimated to seeing incompetence rewarded that even the mere possibility that their retirements were forced leaves me tickled.

A toast to success! Blub...blub...blub!

As for the first so-called educator discussed in this article, will the school finally improve with him gone? Don't hold your breath. He's had the well poisoned for so long with harassment that this toxin long ago bubbled to life and swallowed the whole school, if not much of the county.


Twenty years after the Plop Lecture, is America really much more advanced than before?

In Stuart, Florida, a 12-year-old boy has been arrested because he farted at school. He leaned over on his buttcheek and cracked a big ol' bunker blast.

A police report gripes that the youth "deliberately passed gas to disrupt the class" and that he admitted that he "continually disrupted his classroom environment by breaking wind and shutting off several computers."

When I went to Brossart, people acted like there was something wrong with you if you didn't fart at school. But even there, nobody got arrested for not farting - so why should someone be arrested for farting now?

And that's the serious question we should ask ourselves. Are we supposed to call the fuzz every time some kid acts up at school? Are America's schools really that petty now?

None of the serial bullies I had to deal with had the cops called on them, and somehow I think ripping a stinker poses less of a threat to schoolmates' safety than all the harassment I suffered did.

(Story here:


Last year - when I goed on road trip #53 - Scandal's Patty Smyth may have been shootin' at the walls of heartache, but someone was shootin' boogies out their nose at the walls of Pizza Hut restrooms.

I'm way behind on travelogues, but on August 17 to 18 of last year, I went on vacation in Nashville to see Scandal in concert!

On the way down, we got caught in a traffic jam in Louisville as a hilarious billboard featuring Charlie Brown yelling, "AAUGH!" leered at us. And when we stopped for a meal at a Jerry's restaurant in Bowling Green, we noticed something even more heehaw-inducing: Inside the restaurant there was a Blues Brothers display, and a John Belushi statue was standing in front of a small fountain in such a manner that he appeared to be urinating.

On I-65 on the south side of Nashville, we drove past one of the most offensive sights I've seen on a road trip in recent years: an equestrian statue commemorating the founder of the Ku Klux Klan. I did some research into this statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest and found that it was erected in 1998 by some right-wing stumblebum to protest zoning regulations.

Gee, I bet that showed 'em! (That's sarcasm, everyone.)

Anybaste, the sculpture is made of fiberglass much like a theme park statue of a cartoon character. I almost expected it to carry a sign that said, "Must be 4 feet tall to drive bumper cars." This statue of Forrest also sports a goofy grin and looks just like the king in the Burger King commercials whose face doesn't move.

Pooing is cool.

We went to the Scandal concert, and it was great! The seats weren't that close to the stage (despite the impression that the venue tried to create), but man, the concert ruled! Also, if you ever see Scandal live, notice that Patty Smyth chews bubble gum on stage. (But she didn't bubble.)

On the way home, we got caught in another traffic jam north of Nashville. We stopped for lunchage at a Pizza Hut in Munfordville, Kentucky. When I was taking a leak, I noticed something green stuck to the restroom wall. Why, it was a bogey! Someone had wiped gobs of nasal mucus on the walls of the stall!

We went home through Frankfort, much to the chagrin of the Far Right.

So that's our Nashville trip for ya!

Also, this was last year, in the days of the now-retired Action Cam (when I used the memory card that didn't work right because HP waited 5 years to release the right firmware), but still I posted some Road Scholaring photos:


Whaddya know! Two travelogues in a row! Ew!

My 54th and most recent overnight road trip was on October 3 to 6 of last year in Birmingham, New Orleans, and Memphis. While the Scandal outing was a low-mischief trip, this one ratcheted up the mischief rating to medium. I call this the Mountain Dew Trip - and you'll soon find out why.

It worked out well because each of the 3 nights was in or near each of the 3 aforementioned major cities. On the way down, the route to Nashville was more or less a repeat...repeat...repeat...repeat...repeat of the August trip. But we continued on I-65 to Birmingham and drove all over the south side of town looking for the Vulcan Statue. Our motel was in Fultondale, Alabama, and people kept making noise. But things were starting off slow in the mischief department.

The next day, we took I-59 through Mississippi and got lunch at an utterly filthy diner in Slidell, Louisiana. Then we took the I-10 causeway to New Orleans. Causeway is a funny word, much like mayhem. But there was little mayhem to be found in New Orleans itself this time.

We went to the French Quarter, but then it began to pour down rain. The entire trip was ruined. Just joking!

The real mayhem beginned when we returned to Slidell. We checked into the hotel there, and then we bipped over to the gas station mini mart and buyed food and a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. We brang it all back to the inn, but the citrus soda bottle refused to open. I tried with all my heart to open it, but it was of no use.

There was only one way to retrieve the precious sodie-pop from the container. We pounded the end of the plastic bottle on a chair in the hotel room. After about a minute of this, the cap flew off with such force that it ricocheted off the wall and landed on the other end of the room. Funnier yet, half of the contents of the 2-liter bottle sprayed out and spilled down inside the TV set! Also, the cap from the bottle dented the wall when it flew off.

If the TV still worked as well as it did before, it's a miracle.

The following day, we drove up to Memphis. After finding a hotel on the southeast side of the city, we went downtown. A person bubbled inside the mall. Also, along an isolated street near the river, I noticed someone spraypainted the words, "THE BIBLE IS RIGHT - DO NOT PLAY WITH YOURSELF."

Our second soft drink spillage happened that night when we picked up a meal at a Wendy's drive-thru. As the cashier was handing over my Coke, the lid popped off, spilling the entire cup of cola all over the interior of the car - leaving it stained brown forever. The car interior was ru.

Also, the toilet in the hotel room kept running all night. The cable TV went out as well. It was Comcast, after all.

To conclude the Mountain Dew Trip, we went home going north on I-55 into the bootheel of Missouri and then took I-155 back to Tennessee and US 51 to Kentucky.

To sum up, the major items that were ruined on this trip included a hotel room TV and a car interior, both at the hands of spilled soft drinks. But the Action Cam also took dozens of great Roads Scholarin' photos:


When I was a student at the wretched Bishop Brossart High School, my art class occasionally took field trips to the Cincinnati Art Museum. At the museum, my schoolmates dropped gum wrappers on the floor, spit on artworks, loudly passed gas, yelled masturbation jokes into the restroom, and propped their notebooks against valuable paintings.

I wasn't the culprit in any of this mischief. I believe art is supposed to endure. The planet's future inhabitants will ponder the art that exists now and what it meant.

But records obtained by the Ottawa Citizen newspaper showed that the National Gallery of Canada has been suffering what resembles one long, excruciating siege by Brossart. According to the paper, this museum "encourages interaction with its art collection", but that may be too much.

How much woe has the gallery experienced?

Visitors have written on paintings - leaving them in shambles. A group of teenagers on a field trip appears to have spit all over another work. Another work had graffiti carved into it. Someone also urinated on a giant spider sculpture outside the museum's entrance, and somebody crammed bubble gum inside the nostrils of a statue.

One large art exhibit consists of a tiny outhouse. You can imagine what happened to it.

Damn. A decade of incidents like this almost gives a day of Brossart a run for its money, doesn't it?

(Story here:


Jolly old Norway!

Never been there, but I'm told it's nice.

But no country is free of unsavory eccentrics. And Norway has the Poo-Poo Terrorist.

A strange peep, that Poo-Poo Terrorist is. He made his first known assault in April 2007 when a woman discovered someone had filled her car with several gallons of a brown, foul-smelling matter.

Make no mistake about it. 'Twas poo-poo. You know, shit. Feces. Bowel movements. Elimination.

(Is shit measured in gallons? The article I saw measured it as 10 liters, so I assume it can be measured in gallons. What's amazing is that someone actually weighed the shit that filled the vehicle after finding it.)

Since then, the Poo-Poo Terrorist has specialized in poo cubes. They're like ice cubes, only poopier. He has thrown frozen cubes of feces at cars repeatedly.

But now (as John Walsh might say), this dangerous fugitive is behind bars thanks to your tips!

A 50-year-old man has been arrested because authorities believe he is the Poo-Poo Terrorist. A police search found frozen shit in the man's freezer.

It's unclear what sort of penalty the Poo-Poo Terrorist will face. With the Bush crime family's penchant for welcoming offensive characters, maybe the United States will bring him in as a political refugee (as has been the case with other terrorists under Bush). CPH probably has a job as a guard lined up for him.

Reading us online? Click on these words to go up to our index!

(Copywrong 2008)
* * *