Rumors Are Spread By Jealous People

I Want To Make A Memorial For Our Turkey. Never Has A Bird Been So Tortured To Provide Such A Lousy Dinner.

Death Is Funny, When You Think About It. Everybody Does It, But Nobody Knows How, Exactly How.

I Make It Through The First Two Weeks Of School Without A Nuclear Meltdown.

I Stand In The Center Aisle Of The Auditorium, A Wounded Zebra In A National Geographic Special, Looking For Someone, Anyone To Sit Next To. A Predator Approaches: Gray Jock Buzz Cut, Whistle Around A Neck Thicker Than His Head. Probably A Social Studies Teacher, Hired To Coach A Blood Sport.

If I Ever Form A Clan, We'll Be The Anti-cheerleaders And Walk Under The Bleacher Forming Mild Acts Of Mayhem.