I went to Daniel Boone Elementary School in Chicago. Often at lunch time, I would go home with my best friend Ronnie Razowsky. His mother taught me to have mustard on a brisket sandwich. On the way home one day, I stole a piece of chalk from class and as we walked along I wrote one letter on each of four garage door panels along the way:
F U C K.
At lunch that day, Ronnie asked his mother what FUCK spells? Neither of us knew. Don't remember what his mother said.
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