Now, really, people, where would I be without an out of control, overblown sense of self-importance?

And, actually, my apology extends to everyone except her. She can suck it.

One of the best things about Diaryland is the Anonymous Guestbook Entry of Admonition. When you have the ability to chide someone without them knowing exactly who is giving the chide, you feel free to say all sorts of fun and silly things! As a controversial jerk that says all sorts of chide-able things, I tend to get these AGEA's fairly often.

I really don't understand why you wouldn't leave your name on a statement that you fully stand behind. It seems very 5th grade to leave a naughty little note and then run away without giving the person for whom you left the note a chance to respond. I always imagine that the perpetrators of these anonymous dressing downs are girls, who feverishly write them, run back to their rooms, flop on their beds and unlock their plastic Strawberry Shortcake Diaries and scribble "Dear Diary! I hate that Bill! HATE HIM HATE HIM HATE HIM!!!! ...

...but he's sooooooooooo cute!"

According to my calculations, that section of this entry will result in approximately 2.3 Anonymous Girly Guestbook signings.

And 1.6 pre-pubescent fantasies in which I'm riding a black horse, and you think I'm the bad guy, but then it turns out I'm really not.

I just know these things.

Now that I've used the word 'Psych!' and referenced 5th grade, I believe the stage is set for a trip down memory lane.

Remember back in grade school when you really didn't know nothin' about nothin'? This was especially true when it came to sex. It was probably around 6th grade when everyone at my school suddenly became aware that, ready or not, we were soon to be introduced to the world of adult sexual relations. We all knew that, next year, Social Studies and Art would occasionally be put on hold for the much more interesting world of Sex Ed.

Note: 'Sex Ed' would be a really bad name for a really bad movie about a horny guy named Ed, possibly starring Rob Schneider.

Anyway.

There were rumors floating around my grade school just begging to be debunked by the next stage of our education. I don't know where these rumors came from. I suspect that some of the 8th graders were hanging out with high school kids, and that this information trickled down to the 6th graders and was grossly misinterpeted.

To wit:

- The words 'bike' or 'bicycle' meant 'sex' in French, so whenever you said something about riding your bike, you were actually talking about sex!

- A 'blowjob' was when a woman would blow air on a man's penis, and this was very exciting for some reason.

- This one time, this one guy that went to Von Stueben H.S. peed in this one girl's mouth, and she threw up!

- And finally, one would hope we knew better before we actually were made to sit through Sex Ed, but just in case our young minds were under the impression that men and women produced offspring merely by lying down naked together and kissing each other, our teacher Mr. Halter dispelled that innocent notion at the very beginning of our first Sex Ed class when he held up his left hand and made a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, then held up his right hand, pointer finger outstretched, and announced "Guys, it's like this," before deftly guiding his finger through the hole.

We all had a good laugh as our suspicions were finally confirmed.

To this day, that is the extent of my sexual knowledge.