I never had the vaguest idea whether any of it had anything to do with me, especially being a sixth grader. When I got older and traveled, I'd read about the history of where I was going. I'd be like, "Oh, history is kind of interesting."

Your hand and your mouth agreed many years ago that, as far as chocolate is concerned, there is no need to involve your brain.

The only kind of seafood I trust is the fish stick, a totally featureless fish that doesn't have eyeballs or fins.

Your modern teenager is not about to listen to advice from an old person, defined as a person who remembers when there was no Velcro.

I am not a violent person. I am a product of the Flower Power '60s. I have actually worn bell-bottomed jeans.

Sign at a Kentucky appliance store: Don't kill your wife. Let our washing machine do the dirty work.

The voice belonged to Mr. Pzyrbovich, an algebra teacher who was always called Mr. P, for obvious reasons. He has a heavy accent, which a lot of kids said made him hard to understand, although to be fair some of these kids would have never understood algebra anyway.