Aside from the fact that if I were unleashed on the world with a red Bic ballpoint pen I would inevitably correct grammar and spelling mistakes on everything in sight, I cannot be loose on society with my mouth unfiltered, either. Someone has been trying to set up a recycling effort at school. And unfortunately, someone doesn’t have the sense of humor of a 13-year-old boy like Felix and I. We fell over laughing in the teacher’s lounge at these priceless proclamations:
It’s that time of the month!
Put your cans here.
The gardening club wants your jugs!
Really, people. My freakin’ blog writes itself sometimes.
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