At Central Junior High in East Peoria, boys got in trouble for combing our hair during study hall. Teacher would make you come up, hand over the offensive implement, then she'd break your comb in half and throw it in the garbage.
I bought an unbreakable comb at a candy store.
Next day, you should have seen me primping energetically with that comb, combing, combing, combing, as vigorously and defiantly as I could.
My how the class laughed when the teacher kept bending that super comb and getting nowhere with it. It simply would not break, not for her, not for an 800 pound gorilla. I got swatted extra for that one.
Of course, I padded my slacks, stuffing handkerchiefs into the back pockets. This strategy only worked once. When the paddles with holes (for velocity acceleration) bounced off the cotton lumps, you were, once again, in more trouble.
Of course, I padded my slacks, stuffing handkerchiefs into the back pockets. This strategy only worked once. When the paddles with holes (for velocity acceleration) bounced off the cotton lumps, you were, once again, in more trouble.
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