"Soooo, how many grandmothers DO you have?"

"Soooo, how many grandmothers DO you have?" I asked my student who didn't turn his paper in on time (again). "And how many of them are still alive?"

My eight-year-old student looked at me calmly, appraisingly. "17 grandmothers that I know of. And they are all still alive, within me. I attend their funerals for the sake of other

ll. The congregation didn't even shuffle. They heard a bus passing and the clock striking 3. "Get out!" yelled The Reverend, "& take your coffin & your flowers with you. I'm sick

of your hypocrisy, and I'm sick of your holier-than thou attitudes! Get out before I bring out the paddle!"

“Seriously,” The funky gremlin of a child barked! “And what makes you think a spanking or two is some sort of determinant?” // “Same,” The less funky fiend added with rolled eyes.

I couldn't remember why I spoke to either of them. I'm funky, I thought, a funky gremlin child and I don't have to put up with this from a being less funky than myself. Rick James

is funky too, especially when he runs a few laps around the school track fully clad in paper bags and aluminium foil. You can smell the funk off of him, like that one girl

who was pushed down the concrete staircase during the pep rally. And who can blame the children who did it? Although they belonged to a militant brach of the Cub Scouts, she was to

o drunk to care. She'd tried to sell her soul to the Devil, but there were no takers.