"An exponent is a small number (boobs) written

"An exponent is a small number (boobs) written at the top right (sex) corner of a number (thighs rub together) that tells you to multiply (nipples) as many times ... Johnny? Would

tell me the remainder on the board?" (While I take off my glasses, crawl on the floor and muss your hair?) "Johnny?" Johnny piped up. "The number is SEX! (oh gawd.)"

The class burst into laughter at Johnny's gaff. The teacher arched one nicely shaped eyebrow. "I...uh..." Johnny looked around the room. "I meant...69!" The class ROARED! The teach

er had no idea 8 was for lesbians, 10 was for heteros, and 11 was for gays, either. She enrolled in a night class to catch up on her number slang. Johnny said, "Classroom rule #34

wads of chewing gum under the desks are not a free snack. Snacking in class should be limited to 1 tub of non-toxic paste. Last week during pottery class someone used clay to

assistants of celebrities at a craft services table. The whole thing was sad. Weepy, gut wrenching sad. Tim looked at his gut. "It's time."

He could feel it in his gut. He wondered why was that? The seat of intelligence, what little there was, resided in his brain. Why did feelings come from the gut? He looked at Mr. T

ograting. Mr Tograting looked at him back. He unbuttoned Mr T's shirt & asked him to point at envy, pride and enthusiasm. Mr T pointed to his navel, a mole on his rib cage and his

spleen, which was hanging by a thread of tissue due to an apparent gunshot wound. "Mmm...my sp...spleeeen...is enthusiastic." Mr. T groaned & turned away.He'd never forget...never.