"Then I joined the middle school band. I played the baritone sax. Our band director (Mr. Seth) was riding a razor-thin line of losing his marbles, and that was at the beginning of the school year. We were a terrible group of misfits. Never stopped blaring our instruments, playing whatever we wanted. Never listened to him. Never played a single piece he assigned. So one day he showed up with rifle range ear protection and a police whistle. He had an insane grin on his face and his eyes bugged out as he wildly flailed his conducting hands at us while blowing his whistle and screaming, “You guys sound great!!! BEST I’VE EVER HEARD!!” Then he ran to his office and burst into tears. The next day we had a new director. I guess Mr. Seth retired that day. I still feel shitty about that one."
whats the opposite of a fixer?
- he/him
resident gungler. 30 or 40 years old and do not need this.
paints at fakesambinder
Here? Here's where I post cats and while high.
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