I was sitting next to Courtney in Bio, and we were doing this review worksheet. I whip out my handy dandy wite-out (best stuff in the world) and start to use it. My wite-out is better than Courtney's, but that's not the point. Ok, so I'm using it and I see some on the table. Whoops. So, I thought back to yesterday (two days ago in actuality) where in S.S. I accidentally dropped my wite-out on the floor and it spilled. I said to Courtney, "Does this wite-out have a hole in it?" and I begin to bang it on the table like any intellectual would. Courtney and I have laughter spasms and we can't talk as it splatters on my brand-new C.B. East sweatshirt (no, it's not an athletic one!), the microscope, the table, and maybe even Courtney. Whoops...so, I go to the sink and get a paper towel. Wite-out does NOT come of when wiped with water and a paper towel. So, I continue to wipe it and I turn my head and Mr. Shultze is watching me with a stone-faced expression. He does this whenever I do something idiotic, which is quite often. I smile and wipe slowly back and forth like a fool.
Mr. S: What are you doing?
Me: I'm wiping the table, heh, heh, (wipes and no wite-out comes off)
Mr. S: What did you spill?
Mr. S: Coming off?
Mr. S: Bring it over here.
So I did, and it indeed had a crack in it and we bandaged it with masking tape. I then named it Bandaged Bob because of obvious reasons. It was bandaged and Bob is a suitable name for a bottle of wite-out.
Today, Shultzie asked me about my wite-out. It's doing ok, thanks for your concern. Courtney and I became "Shultzie's Angles" today when we went on a "top secret mission", which is so top secret even I don't know what it was!