Boyz in the 'Hood
Girls are noisy. They fuss and they fight all the time. They wear noisy "clacky" shoes. The simplest of incidents are fodder for melodramatic wails, complete with real tears. They scream when they're happy, scream when they're scared, scream when they're surprised, and scream when they just feel like screaming. Conversationally, they have boys beat by tens of decibals. Its enough to make the Headmaster run for sanctuary several times a day, into the "Man Room". He may even do a load of laundry or two while he's in there.
But one thing girls rarely do is jolt you with heart-stopping, horrific surprises. That's the specialty of the all-male student body of the Academy. While a max-extract spin cycle might drown out the bone jarring sound of a barbie-doll fight, nothing will soothe the nerves after finding a plastic sandwich bag full of worms. Dead worms. Worms roasting in their plastic death-sauna for an undetermined number of days. Yeah. Only time can heal that memory. Lots of time, and lots of liquor.
When the Headmaster entertains, the last thing he wants to hear from a guest is speculative inquiry into whether something may have crawled behind some furniture and died. In fact, in hindsight, it was an excellent way to describe the smell of bagged dead worms. And, as he later found out, an oddly appropriate description of actual events.
Since getting close enough to take a photo of this grisly scene would have required overcoming the strong gag reflex, and since looking at such a photo would require the same of you, the Headmaster has chosen to spare the details. So, in the spirit of providing visual support for all blog posts, please enjoy these pictures of something the boys dragged home today. (mental note - must visit liquor store)
