Gather ‘round the fire and let uncle T.J. tell you a story. It was back in 1674 and I was at the age of 1674. It was a good year, lots of hands touching me inappropriately. I was at the Extracurricular School for the Gifted High School… ‘s basement. It was my sophomore year and it was also report card day for the third quarter. There was a lot of yelling and spitting and clawing at the walls going down, but then my teacher told me to stop. She gave me a cookie and some warm milk and I calmed down. She passed out the report cards and my heart sank quicker than a dead rat tied to a brick on the Titanic. The report cards finally got to me and it read as follows: F, F, F, F-, F, A+. I looked at what the A+ was in and it was in my Making Cheese 101 class. I loooved making cheese! So I went on a rampage, picked up a desk, threw it, hurt my pinky finger, then I ran down the halls saying “redrum, redrum” and then I passed out. I woke up in a hospital bed with a helper monkey operating on my liver. I said, “Wasssup,” and the monkey said, “Eeeek” and hit me with a bedpan. I woke up and I was in a tightly wound ball. It hurt like hell, but it was all good. I got out of bed and rolled up into the hills, but stopped because I didn’t get enough traction. I was heading toward the school and all of it’s students at high velocity and, to make a long story short… gather ‘round the fire and let uncle T.J. tell you a story.