You believe the staff room should be equipped with a Valium salt lick.

You find humor in other people’s stupidity.

You want to slap the next person who says “Must be nice to work 8 to 3:20 and have summers free.”

You believe chocolate is a food group.

You can tell if it’s a full moon without ever looking outside.

You believe “Shallow gene pool” should have its own box in the report card.

You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if anyone says “Boy, the kids sure are mellow today.

When out in public you feel the urge to snap your fingers at children you do not know and correct their behavior.

You have no life between August to June.

When you mention “Vegetables” you’re not talking about a food group.

You think people should be required to get a government permit before being allowed to reproduce.

You wonder how some parents ever MANAGED to reproduce.

You believe in aerial spraying of Prozak.

You believe no one should be permitted to reproduce without having taught in an elementary setting for the last 10 years.

You’ve ever had your profession slammed by someone who would “Never DREAM” of doing your job.

You think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.

You know you are in for a major project when a parent says “I have a great idea I’d like to discuss. I think it would be such fun.”

You want to choke a person when he or she says “Oh, you must have such FUN everyday. This must be like playtime for you.”

Meeting a child’s parent instantly answers the question “Why is this kid like this?”

You’re a redneck if…

-You have more fingers than you do teeth

-You cut your grass and find a car

-You consider Denny’s a Fancy Resturant

-Your best Suit contains more than 5 colors

-Your age is higher than your I.Q.

-Your favorite pickup line is “Does this look infected to you?”

-You ask your wife wheather the spot on your neck is a boil or a mole and she replies “Its a gummy bear.”

-You have a family reunion and everyone in town shows up.

-You say “Watch this” everytime before you goto the hospital.

-Your wife and ex-wife are sisters.

Your shuttlecraft has been up on blocks for over a month.

He paints flames and a NRA sticker on the warp nacelles.

You have a shuttle called “Billy Joe Bob”.

He refers to Klingons as “Critters”.

He refers to Photon Torpedoes as “Popguns”.

He has the sensor array repaired with a bent coathanger and aluminum foil.

He installs a set of bullhorns on the front of the saucer section.

He says “Got your ears on, good buddy” instead of “open hailing frequencies”.

He hangs fuzzy dice over the viewscreen.

He rewires his communicator into his belt buckle.

He keeps a six-pack under his command chair and a gun rack above it.

He says “Yee-Ha!” instead of “Engage”.

He has a hand-tooled holster for his phaser.

He insists on calling his executive officer “Bubba”.

He sets the fore viewscreen to reruns of “Bassmaster”.

He programs the food replicator for beer, ribs, and turnip greens.

He paints the starship John Deere green.

He refers to a Pulsar as a “Blue Light Special”.

He refers to the Mutara Nebula as a “swamp”.

His moonshine is stronger than Romulan Ale.

He sings “Lucille” instead of “Kathleen”.

His idea of dress uniform is CLEAN bib overalls.

He wears mirrored shades on the Bridge.

His idea of a “gas giant” is that big ol’ XO Bubba after a meal of beans and weenies.

He sets phaser to “Cajun”.

You’ve come to the annoying realization that your parents were right about almost everything.

The bag boy volunteers to help load groceries into your car—in the “ten items or less” lane.

You’ve stopped supporting your children, and started supporting your parents.

You’ve found yourself discussing rain gutters.

You remember your kid’s names, just not always the right one.

You have nightmares about forgetting to move the garbage cans to the street for the garbage collector.

Your high school yearbook is now home to three different species of mold.

You buy “age-defying” makeup and “antiwrinkle” creams and believe they work.

You’ve realized that all those geeky people in Bermuda shorts walking around Disney World include you.

You recognize Led Zeppelin songs that have been turned into elevator Muzak.

As a public service, you have agreed to never appear on the beach in a Speedo again.

You’ve had three opportunities to buy every single Disney Animated Classic—“for the last time in a generation”

You’d pay good money to be strip-searched.

Wal-Mart and target seem to share your fashion sense.

The only way you know to stop a virtual pet from beeping involves the patio and a sledgehammer.

You can pack two suits, Five shirts, five ties, five pairs of underwear, five pairs of socks, a pair of shoes, and half of your bathroom into a carry-on bag—in less than five minutes.

You know what Earth Shoes are.

You think if you hear “Stairway to Heaven” one more time your head will explode.

Your weight-lifting program seems to have no effect on your muscles, but the veins on the backs of your hands are bulking up quite nicely.

On Saturday night, when your wife mentions “hot oil, a little friction, and squealing,” you tell her you’ll have the car looked at first thing Monday morning.