I went to one of those anal high schools, with ruler-wielding nuns. We were seated alphabetically and I was tied to a near-moron classmate for four years. I decided to take Latin so he wouldn’t follow me and ruin another class for me. He was surprised when I told him what I intended to do. But, after some thought, he decided “to take Latin, too.”
Our Latin teacher was cross-eyed and you never knew for certain if she was speaking to you or to some person on the other side of the room. The near-moron frequently miscalculated her field of vision. She could throw a blackboard eraser at anyone in the room and hit that person precisely on the forehead with the eraser. The lady had an arm on her. The near-moron left the classroom on most days with a patina of chalk dust on his face.
Now you can see why I turned out as badly as I did. I fell in with evil companions during my formative years.
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