I can look back now and laugh, but whilst it was happening, that one fateful day, well Columbine almost happened at the Northside School in East Williston had I not been a more level-headed 4th grader. Plus Ms. Polacci was holding my hand and I was hot for teacher.
Ah yes, the wooden desk. complete with a metal resonance chamber underneath. The best farts, indeed.
I went to a Catholic high school (because that's where they all of the 'troubled' kids seemed to end up, and one of our Theology teachers was quite the effeminate, fruity type. Prolly not ghey, but definitely had a lot of sand kicked in his face I'll bet.
Probably one of my most memorable moments high school was the fart I ripped in his class. I think it was sophomore or junior year, but his class was after lunch.
Let me preface this story by stating prior to this, a couple of classmates had already ripped a couple of standard 'run-of-the-mill' nothing spectacular (but no less funny :D ) farts early on in class, which already annoyed by teacher already. After his mini-tirade about us being 'immature', I had something special percolating inside, and it wasn't faith in Jesus.
I was generally a 'good' kid and didn't like to make waves (lol) or get into trouble, much less be the center of attention. But the guy that sat behind me always had me in stitches, definitely one of the funniest mofos I ever met - so today was the day I returned the favor.
As I got ready I grabbed the top of the wooden desk panel with both hands, lifted the right rump cheek up about an inch, and let it rip.
I simply cannot describe the sound; it was super crisp, very loud, and I swear I heard the bolts rattling in my seat. If anything it probably loosened them.
The entire class simply fell apart for 5 minutes.
The teacher whirled around, ref-faced and perturbed, and laid into the class about us "having manners like peasants" and what not. I don't know how I kept a straight face the whole time. Somehow no one in the class gave it away that it was me, although my classmates around 'Ground Zero' knew and kept their poker faces.
I had the same problem with not touching the floor, except in 6th grade, it was different. We had different sized desks so the short kids had to sit in front and the tall kids got to sit in back in the larger desk/chairs.
Our idiot teacher decided to go boy-girl-boy-girl so I was in the front row in between the two shortest guys. They were tough guys and didn't take any crap.
Our teacher used to spit as he talked and the three of us in the front row were prime targets. Yuck! One day the kid next to me yells out "Stop spitting on us!" Everyone started cracking up and we were ROLF (before there was an acronym). It was so funny.
I was glad to get to 7th grade where, whilst I couldn't reach the floor in the standard desks, we could sit wherever we wanted.