My wife occasionally brings home CDs from her kindergarten class. Yesterday she was listening to "Greg and Steve's Big Fun," with tunes such as "Silly Willies," "In My Backyard," "The Movement Medley," "What Will We Do?"
Am I just dirty-minded, or do all those sound suggestive?
My wife keeps wanting me to come to school to read to her class, but any time I go in that building, I feel like I'm 8 years old again and counting the minutes until I can get out and watch the Three Stooges at home. That's because the school I attended then was pretty strict. The principal said a crack in the wall contained a secret camera he used to monitor our behavior. He claimed he had an electric paddle with spikes to better drive the current into your ass.
Outside the principal's office was a bronze plaque commemorating the students (the building was a high school in the early 1900s) who died in World War I. There was no air conditioning in the building, so if you got sent to the principal's office, you had to sit on a bench and sweat (literally and figuratively) while reflecting on a bunch of guys who probably sat where you were now but were dead now and monitoring you through that same crack in the wall.
You'd think, "I wonder how William R. Johnson, PFC, U.S. Army, would handle getting in trouble for making the opening of his paper lunch bag into an anus and squishing out a brownie?" Probably better than I did.
Our playground was a slab of asphalt with a white line down the middle; the girls had one side and the boys had the other. You couldn't cross the line or there would be paddling.
Talking in class? Paddling. Playing with paper footballs? Paddling. Some of the guys got paddled so much, they took to folding up several sheets of paper and putting them in back pockets to absorb the blows.
The teachers had holes drilled in their paddles to make them more aerodynamic. If you were a frequent spankee, you could sign the paddle.
Some guys perfected a method of fake spanking: if you cup your hand and slap the side of your butt, it sounds like a loud smack. Do that five or six times, cry for mercy, and people start poking their heads out the door to see which teacher lost it and and was going overboard on a student.
Fun consisted of dumbass stuff like seeing how far you could stand from the wall and get your pee in the urinal. It was best to start close to the urinal and move backwards, rather than starting far away. Otherwise, you're bound to pee on the floor.