I give them Shakespeare, they give me "Ass"

Let me explain.
I live down a dirt road. Since I leave in a bit of a hurry most days, dust is stirred in great quantities. Said dust leaves fairly thick deposits on the back of the car. I amuse myself by writing Shakespeare quotes in it. If asked, I will claim this is a postmodern comment on the lasting nature of literature, but we all know it is because someone must write in the dust, so it might as well be me.

So my quote 2 days ago was "We few, we happy few! We band of brothers!"
I was quite proud, though uncertain as to the placement of the exclamation points.

I come out later in the day, leaving school at an all-time early for me of 3:40. One of the precious darlings has written, below my quote: "Wash my Ass!" (sic)

So cultured.

Also, I have a sore throat. I'm halfway hoping that I am sick, but I'm not really prepared for a sub to do anything, so no. Ugh.

I've been thinking about this sore throat, though...if I lived in Austen's time and I got strep throat, I could call it "putrid." No one uses putrid anymore.

I'm just saying.