The Lunxicon

When I was in elementary school, was everybody’s favorite teacher (well, the boys’ favorite, anyway) was Mr. Woodward. Mr. Woodward was a balding fellow with piercing blue eyes and a poorly developed ring goatee. Now, us young gents all loved Mr. Woodward because he was the PE teacher, which meant instead of making us do actual work, he had us play soccer and non-stop cricket (yay, British schools). We also liked him because he taught us great ways to make fun of each other. For example, if somebody stuttered or said something stupid, Mr. Woodward would smack his forehead with the palm of his hand, dig his tongue between his lower gum and lower lip, and make a very unattractive sound. The only comparison I can come up with is to the sound I imagine would come out of a bathroom stall containing a young Down syndrome sufferer who is painfully unaware of his own constipation and is trying with all his might to remove last night’s dinner from his body.
Continue reading Stop with that Nincompoopery…