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cheerleader

Most of you probably would have hit that 20 years ago. (Before the face aged and the fat entered.)
 
When I was a second grader at Biscayne Gardens elementary in North Miami, we had a "science experiment" at the beginning of the year. We figured out a way to make potatoes grow from a small cutoff. It was supposed to illustrate something that was lost on me as a second grader (and apparently today.) As I had the attention span of a ferret on crack, (due to way too much BooBerry and Star Blazers) I forgot about said potato experiment. It got jammed to the back of my desk, where it sat all the way through Christmas Break.

Now, you're probably assuming that was the end of Mr. Potato Experiment, and it rotted, making a horrible smell. Not so. Undeterred and displaying a will to live reminiscent of a Kardashian career, the potato sent shoots out toward the light. Within a month or two, it reached the light with shoots. White, albino shoots. DOZENS of them. Yes, the Great Potato Experiment, fueled by South Florida humidity, took over my desk, entangling everything therein. When we returned from Christmas Break, my desk was partially consumed. The janitorial staff excised it, and presented it to me.

Naturally, I found this amusing, and brought it home to my Mom. She made a face that I will never forget, a face that perfectly captured surprise, amusement, and revulsion.

It is the same face I made when I read this thread.
 
When I was a second grader at Biscayne Gardens elementary in North Miami, we had a "science experiment" at the beginning of the year. We figured out a way to make potatoes grow from a small cutoff. It was supposed to illustrate something that was lost on me as a second grader (and apparently today.) As I had the attention span of a ferret on crack, (due to way too much BooBerry and Star Blazers) I forgot about said potato experiment. It got jammed to the back of my desk, where it sat all the way through Christmas Break.

Now, you're probably assuming that was the end of Mr. Potato Experiment, and it rotted, making a horrible smell. Not so. Undeterred and displaying a will to live reminiscent of a Kardashian career, the potato sent shoots out toward the light. Within a month or two, it reached the light with shoots. White, albino shoots. DOZENS of them. Yes, the Great Potato Experiment, fueled by South Florida humidity, took over my desk, entangling everything therein. When we returned from Christmas Break, my desk was partially consumed. The janitorial staff excised it, and presented it to me.

Naturally, I found this amusing, and brought it home to my Mom. She made a face that I will never forget, a face that perfectly captured surprise, amusement, and revulsion.

It is the same face I made when I read this thread.


You sir...should be a writer.
 
Is this what one looks like when they suffer from "Orange Bowel" disease?

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Most of you probably would have hit that 20 years ago. (Before the face aged and the fat entered.)

Your right. It's called a "fight or flight" reaction. I would have punched it in the nose and run like hell in the other direction.
 
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