What is Best in Life

In a surprising new trend, I’ve been seeing a lot of really great movies at the local mainstream movie theater. By a lot I mean I really liked No Country for Old Men, and after seeing There Will Be Blood this weekend, I’d say it is just as good. I may end up having to rethink my whole “the only reason to go to the Hollywood Southwind 12 theater is to get a quick ‘dumb action movie’ fix” position.
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Being a rambunctious sort, my past is full of tales of derring-do and mischievous insubordination. In this series I will examine specific instances of orneriness from my past so that you, the reader, might understand Isley’s special relationship with authority just a little bit better.

Today’s tale comes all from all the way back when Isley was a wee lad of six years old. Now I realize I just posted a “rousing tale from Isley’s spirited past” yesterday, but in case some of you were thinking that 13 year old Junior High Isley sounded like a bit of an ass, I just thought I should post proof that 13 year old Isley had actually mellowed quite a bit since his hell raising days as a first grader:
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Being a rambunctious sort, my past is full of tales of derring-do and mischievous insubordination. In this series I will examine specific instances of orneriness from my past so that you, the reader, might understand Isley’s special relationship with authority just a little bit better.

Today’s post looks back on a 13 year old Isley. This is a 13 year old Isley that had just gotten caught sneaking out of his art class to try to continue his daily flooding of the restroom toilets (that month long reign of terror is a story for another day). As a punishment for wandering the halls unattended I was not allowed to participate in our painting session (a punishment most likely prompted by my art teacher’s suspicion that I was the one who had sprayed the tempra paints all over the back of the classroom on the previous day). Instead I was forced to write an essay over art magazine articles each day for the entire two week painting course.

Well, in a shocking turn of events, I felt the need to challenge her authority. At the end of the two weeks, these are the 12 reports she found waiting for her on her desk:
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Maybe it’s a guy thing, maybe it’s an Isley thing, but farts are kind of hilarious. With that in mind, here are some of my favorite cases of the vapors from the past decade or so!
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