Your bedroom isn't cluttered; it's "passage-restrictive."
Kids don't get in trouble anymore. They merely hit "social speed bumps."
You're not having a bad hair day; you're suffering from "rebellious follicle syndrome."
No one's tall anymore. They're "vertically enhanced."
You're not shy. You're "conversationally selective."
You don't talk a lot. You're just "abundantly verbal."
It's not called gossip anymore. It's "transmission of near-factual information."
The food at the school cafeteria isn't awful. It's "digestively challenged."
Your homework isn't missing; it's just having an "out-of-notebook experience."
You're not sleeping in class; you're "rationing consciousness."
You don't have smelly gym socks; you have "odor-retentive athletic footwear."
You weren't passing notes in class. You were "participating in the discreet exchange of penned meditations."
You're not being sent to the principal's office. You're "going on a mandatory field trip to the administrative building."
A man walks into a drug store with his 8 year old son. They happen to walk by the condom display, and the boy asks, "What are these, Dad?"
The man, matter-of-factly, replies, "Those are called condoms, son. Men use them to have safe sex."
"Oh I see," replied the boy pensively. "Yes, I've heard of that in health class at school."
He looks over the display and picks up a package of three and asks, "Why are there three in this package."
The dad replies, "Those are for high school boys. One for Friday, one for Saturday, and one for Sunday."
"Cool!" says the boy. He notices a pack of six and asks "Then who are these for?"
"Those are for college men," the dad answers. "Two for Friday, two for Saturday, and two for Sunday."
"WOW!" exclaimed the boy. "Then who uses these?" he asks, picking up a 12-pack.
With a sigh, the dad replied, "Those are for married men. One for January, one for February, one for March..."