At Senior Supper (the last gathering for my high school class before we graduated), I volunteered to give a speech. I had a few notes, but I mostly decided to wing it, as is my style.
I said a few things to some special people in my life, and then I decided to make a nice comment to each of the teachers in attendence. One of them was my Sociology teacher Mr. Noha, kind of a young stud type of teacher and also one of the football coaches. Everyday before class, he would read to us from "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" or "Small Stuff", as he called it for short. When it came his turn for me to say something, I said, "Mr. Noha, I loved your small stuff." Everybody cracked up laughing, and I realized what I had said. Wanting to remedy the situtation, I only made it worse by saying, "Not THAT small stuff!" The class was howling, and I don't know who was redder...me or Mr. Noha. *bluuuuuuuuuuuush*
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"I don't know you,
But you don't know the half of it..."