When my son graduated from high school, he had to give a speech. He began by reading from his prepared text.
"I want to talk about my mother and the wonderful influence she has had on my life," he told the audience. "She is a shining example of parenthood, and I love her more than words could ever do justice."
At this point he seemed to struggle for words. After a pause, he looked up with a sly grin and said, "Sorry, but it's really hard to read my mother's handwriting."
At Cambridge University, a bright young student showed up for the exam and asked the proctor to bring him cakes and ale.
Proctor: I beg your pardon?
Student: Sir, I request that you bring me cakes and ale.
Proctor: Sorry, no.
Student: Sir, I really must insist. I request and require that you bring me cakes and ale.
At this point, the student produced a copy of the four hundred-year-old Laws of Cambridge, written in Latin and still nominally in effect, and pointed to the section that read (roughly translated): "Gentlemen sitting in examinations may request and require cakes and ale."
Pepsi and hamburgers were judged the modern equivalent, and the student sat there, writing his examination and happily eating and slurping away.
Three weeks later, the student was fined five pounds for not wearing a sword to the examination.
Hanging in the hallway at a high school are the basketball team pictures from the past decades. A player in the center of the front row in each picture holds a basketball identifying the year -- "92-93," "93-94," "94-95," etc.
One day the principal spotted a freshman looking curiously at the photos. Turning to the principal, he said, "Isn't it strange how the teams always lost by one point?"
Dad: "Can I see your report card, son?"
Son: "I don't have it."
Dad: "Why not?"
Son: "I gave it to my friend. He wanted to scare his parents."