Friday OT - What a Wicked Game We Play
- Thread starter Angie
- Start date
I have a lot of dreams where I'm coming out from work (retired 13 years ago) and cannot remember where I parked and can't find my car. I'm walking all over and maybe find it or decide I drove a different car to work that day and should have been looking for that. Or find it then I don't have the keys in my pocket.
It's the second most often theme after: I have to pee and can't find a bathroom or if I do the toilets are all broken or out of order. Until I wake up and actually DO use the facility adjacent to the MBR.
When you play with another sex-gender kid (or both), so you start to hold the legs with your hand and say "your scared (or something like)", and then you go closer and closer to say again until your getting near their private parts.
Me and some friends picked up our English teacher's 1990 Ford Festiva and placed it lengthwise between two trees. There was maybe a half a foot combined for her to try to wriggle out of there.
Looking back, her life already wasn't going in the right direction by having to teach in a small town in Iowa with a Ford Festiva as her mode of transportation.
When you play with another sex-gender kid (or both), so you start to hold the legs with your hand and say "your scared (or something like)", and then you go closer and closer to say again until your getting near their private parts.
Sounds like a good way to end up making out.
This reminds me of when we picked up dozens of Christmas trees people had put out on the curb and dumped them on a teacher’s lawn
I'm gonna try thisWhen you play with another sex-gender kid (or both), so you start to hold the legs with your hand and say "your scared (or something like)", and then you go closer and closer to say again until your getting near their private parts.
My senior year, several of the other senior guys would come down the stairs to the football locker room carrying their girlfriends or a female classmate. You could tell the girls were yelling some but not fighting it off too hard and didnt leave promptly. I was smart enough that I generally was one of the last undressed to shower or get ready so I would just be putting my pads away or getting things lined up instead of naked and trying to cover up or fly to the showers.
I mean you had to go down 2 flights of stairs and they never started yelling until they basically broke the doorway. Never understood how the younger players were always surprised when it basically happened weekly.
I mean you had to go down 2 flights of stairs and they never started yelling until they basically broke the doorway. Never understood how the younger players were always surprised when it basically happened weekly.
CycloneErik
Well-Known Member
Still a thing.
This year's 8th grade class has an artist who likes to, um, draw and brag in the girls' restroom. Always proud to see his work.
A friend and I figured out how to open a broken locker outside the room of one of our classes. We'd light a candle attached to a firecracker inside the locker and close it. A nun who looked be not far from knocking on death's door, taught the class. About 10 minutes into class, the firecracker would go off. After jumping at her desk, the teacher would scurry out looking for ever did this. It was months before they figured out where the explosions happened and put a lock on the locker.
