formed raze when i was thirteen, someone whipped a piece of clay or something across the room and almost hit the substitute teacher in the face with it. her name was ms. st_germain. we only had her for one day. someone called her "miss shaves her mane", not because she had facial hair we could see, but because it was amusing to say. she made us stand outside and told us we'd be out there until the person who'd thrown the thing gave themselves up. we formed a line outside the same door we would line up at every day at the end of recess. whoever the would-be assailant was, they didn't say anything, and if anyone knew who they were, they didn't say anything either. and though it was chilly, our punishment was more of a gift. it was good to get some air. 131209 what's it to you? who go blather from