Is anyone old enough to remember the old wooden desks with the lift top, with that storage area to warehouse all your books and stuff n the desk?
In my school, Glen Cary Elementary, the desk you were assigned was the desk you kept all school year.
The first day of school, when you sat at your desk for the first time, you did two things. First you lifted the desktop up to look inside for buried treasure, pennies sometimes , gum wrappers usually, and if you happen to get Sam’s desk like Billy did this year, empty condom wrappers, ewwwww.
Sam was in the last row of desks this year, sixth grade, and Billy was now a fifth grader. Sam used the condoms in the typical teenager way. 
Blowing them up like balloons when Mrs. Anderson wasn’t in the room. I always laughed the most when Sam pulled a condom over his head.
Back to the desk inspection procedure. The second thing you did after the treasure hunt was to feel the undercarriage of your desk. Mostly gum, hard as a rock, from the mouths of generations of children that had previously sat at that desk. The really old stuff seemed to be part of the desk bottom, welded in place over a millennia of time.
Some gum, wads from last year, was semi-hard, but you could manage to pull at them and set some free, throwing them in someone else’s desk when they weren’t there. You also always found dried up boogers and hardened, frozen-like, streams of snot that had been painted on the bottoms of desks by many fingers.
Not every loving mother gave their sweet little idiot a handkerchief to use. If you were really curious, before you tried to scrape anything off with your ruler, if you even had one, or your fingernails, you got down underneath like a mechanic to inspect all the boogers, gum wads, and hardened snot flows.
It was whispered around that Sam, the sixth grader, ate the dried boogers and snot from under his desk 
like crunchy candy. Only tried it once on a dare, kinda rice crispies crunchy, sorta like deep fried ants, didn’t like it. Like every other kid, I tried a gum wad, didn’t like that either, almost broke a tooth.
Also, I do know, cause I watched him, whilst sitting at his desk, Sam would casually blow a load of snot between his index finger and his middle finger. His mind preoccupied with what ever book he was reading, he would casually slurp the snot resting between his two fingers.
One pastime every dude enjoyed was booger flicking. A booger had to be of a certain consistency however. Soft and rubbery, with a little stickiness. If the booger was too sticky, it was hard to launch when you flicked your finger. If you rolled it around a little more you could get it to premium launch quality. We had a point system. Blackboard, 10 points, back of someones head, 15 points, back of the teacher’s dress as she walked by, 20 points.
No sound, just a flick of your finger and you could stick it on the blackboard as you walked by. Easiest targets were the girls. Especially easy if you had a girl sitting right in front of you. If you managed to get one in her hair, 
at recess the boys would identify the successful targets and we would walk around inspecting the backs of the heads of our victim, saying, “Hair booger!”.
The girls would run away screaming, as they frantically pulled at their hair. If you were in the earlier grades, like me in the second, you never spoke to, or talked about “Snot Eating Sam”. If you did, Sam would open up a can of kickass on you during recess.
It was also rumored that Sam did dirty things with sheep. It was known that Sam was a few years older than the other sixth graders, so at 12 or 13, the teenaged adolescent hormones had already found their way to his penis.
Looking back, I believe that Sam was slightly retarded as well, so he couldn’t help being a bully, an idiot, and an asshole. There is normal stupid, and then there is retarded stupid. I wonder what kind of person he is today, good karma or bad karma.
That summer, a few of us were able to sneak our way up to one of the barns where Sam’s dad sheared the sheep. We were able to look in a window and observe Sam without him seeing us. I can testify that it is possible to fuck a sheep.
Never attempted it myself, but what you do is stick the sheep’s rear legs in your knee high rubber farmer’s boots so they can’t run away. I’ll never be able to erase that image in my mind of Sam plunging and moving back and forth with his bare ass quivering. I have heard a female sheep baaaaaaaa loudly. I have never eaten my boogers, well, I did try one of those “under the desk” boogers just once (in the second grade). I did blow up a condom like a balloon many years later (as an adult).
We sometimes think it is hopeless and against all odds, but hey, we are part of the 99% against the 1% that currently have absolute control. We can and shall overcome the odds, but only if we truly ORGANIZE. Otherwise, we are all just as a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”.
For those who have been keeping up with my progress with “The Dead Armadillo” story, here’s my latest:
TheDeadArmadilloManuscript112619
Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,
Yadhum oore yaavarum kelir, “The World Is One Family”
Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD, RSISHE
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That school house later became the Ham Lake Town Hall. Don’t remember any booger flicking in any of my classes but during the 6th Grade at Johnsville, we had a substitute teacher for a couple of days who tended not to notice any mischief going on behind her back. My only theory is that she’d had to turn in the eyes in the back of her head along with any left-over ration cards she had from WW II.
She was one of these fascinating women with the flap of skin on her upper arms that waved back & forth as she wrote on the blackboard. Must’ve been a “flapper” in the 1920’s because she used the typical white face powder (dead people didn’t look that pale) that was all the rage back then and applied her lipstick in “cupids bow” fashion like Louise Brooks or Clara Bow would do.
Anyhoo, when she turned her back to the class to write on the blackboard, there would be a volley of spit balls from the outside rows of the room crossing in high arcs like battleships firing at each other. By Day Two, the blackboard was the target. Quite a few would bounce off the blackboard, some would stick to the penmanship guides above the board and quite a few would stick to the back of her flower patterned dress. If she noticed any of this going on she never mentioned it.
No treasure or gum or anything else was ever under our desks at the “consolidated” schools. Kids caught doing any of that sort of thing were assigned to the District Goolag (pun intended) during the summer and spent their time scraping and washing these things off of the desk bottoms.
Thanks Warren, I remember the spitballs too! Hahahahahahahaha. I’ll write to you privately to see if you know or remember the “Sam” character (name changed to protect my ass in case I’m sued). You need to WRITE! I love your writing! You comment is now a permanent part of that post. Hahahahahahaha. Tom