So, this one frozen morning me and Byron, who at that time was like my best friend as all of my salesmannish pleadings created a wonderous young ladly bonding between the two of us, were walking to Jefferson Elementary on Military Hill in Pullman and we came upon a frozen dead field mouse. Stiff as a popsicle. Me, being the terrible little rascal I was at the time, pocketed the Mickeysicle for which to play a joke upon my teacher, a lovely woman whose name escapes me at this time but one who was quite enamored of my preternaturally precocious free versed and imagic poetry about autumn leaves and dead trees, certainly a woman who did not deserve what I was soon to do on this fateful day/TUBOB. More here.

Question (from TUBOB): So, what kind of horrid things did you do in grade school? Can you top mine? If so, please, I implore you, get help, it's never too late.

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