I was walking through the massive building that we called a high school when, all of a sudden, I was attacked by a large pillar of a...uh...uh...hmmm...well, I guess it was just a pillar. After getting up and making sure I hadn't lost any extremities or anything, I noticed that everyone within eyeshot was laughing. "Man," I thought,"I hate it when I don't get to hear a good joke like the one I just missed." Since then, I've known that I am a retard.
John and I have known each other since middle school. We were your average retards. Every summer we'd go to space camp. We'd have to amuse ourselves at school by showing each other how fast we could calculate quantum physics in our heads. Our after school activities consisted of creating a working model of a time machine using a microwave, a little bit of plutonium, a flux capacitor, and some red liquorice.
In high school, we threw away those ways and began to stimulate our minds in more practical ways. We would see how far we could blow snot from our noses, come up with some nasty concoctions at our lunch table just so that everyone would gag when they saw me ingest it, and we would jump on each others' backs in the hall and run like maniacs. We were all known as the "White Trash Gang."
Yes, even now in our college daze, John and I are still retarded. But now it's not just an excuse for getting an answer wrong. Now it's a way of life.