My final essays: have a read, won't you?

Below are my final essays for my composition class. If you have a moment, please read and give any feedback for them. I'm shooting for a 100% in the class and just might make it with your help. Anyone who helps will receive a free cat. (just kidding, you can't have my cats)

Any thoughts on title for these bad-boys? My brain is a bit fried at the moment...


The Benefits of Group Study (exemplification essay)

Studying with a friend or group of friends is a very good idea for three important reasons. To begin, every student grasps material differently due to factors such as age, previous experience, and even language skills therefor a study group functions best with a diverse cross-section of students participating. More mature students tend to take classes more seriously and often have a firmer grasp on the importance of studying. Students with previous experience, either in the work force or prior scholastic endeavors, can bring real-life knowledge to the study table and apply it accordingly to a course of study. Students that possess superior verbal skills can interpret difficult concepts or ideas and simplify them, helping other students succeed. In addition, studying with a group of fellow students is much more enjoyable than simply studying alone. Students are more likely to make the effort to wake up three hours early if they know others will be joining them (one might even surprise the group with breakfast). Group study creates an aura of comradery which can ease some of the anxiety associated with preparing for tests and final exams. Groups can play knowledge enrichment games with pictures or flashcards which is, again, much more fun than playing alone. Finally, studying with a group creates friendly competition which can be quite beneficial to all involved. Comparing ourselves to those around us is a fundamental part of human nature and is a basic building block for success. Discovering the level of comprehension that fellow students possess allows others to aid them in their weaknesses while benefiting from their strengths. A competitive person will usually choose the highest scholastic achievers as his or her study buddies to achieve a higher level of success. In conclusion, study groups are a good idea due to: scholastic diversity benefiting all involved, fellowship among students creating an enjoyable atmosphere, and friendly competition driving individuals to perform at the highest possible level.



Writing (comparison/contrast)

Since beginning my Summer Quarter at Harrison College, my writing style and skills have changed drastically. Three months ago I considered myself a decent writer and I wrote almost daily, either in my blog or for school assignments. I quickly learned, in the first week of Com class, that my writing was unorganized and somewhat incoherent. The first speech I wrote for Presentation Skills earned me a dismal and disappointing B-. Once I grasped the basic formula for writing paragraphs and essays, my writing began to improve, slowly. I no longer considered “free-writing” my desired method of communicating the written word but rather tried to incorporate an outline into each of my writing projects. Then, around the half-way point in the term, I noticed I could make an effective outline in my head for smaller writing projects. My writing improved a bit more--along with my speech grades--and I started to feel more confident that I could succeed. The words were flowing much easier as I could organize my thoughts and ideas in my head before relaying them to the page. I also began to record myself reading my work so I could make last-minute changes if a particular passage or phrase sounded “off”. Now, as I write this very essay, I can look back to three months ago and see the improvements I’ve made and feel confident as I write. I suppose writing is like any other talenct or skill: once the basic concepts are completely understood then improvements can be made. I now feel comfortable incorporating my personality into my projects whereas I didn’t three months ago. If someone were to approach me on the street and ask, “have your writing skills improved since taking Com?”, I would have to reply, “look no further than my grades.”



Fast Food (argument)

There exists, in our country, an ever growing consensus that fast food is responsible for childhood obesity, adult obesity, and the over-all declining health of a nation; each of these facts can easily be deposed. First of all, a child’s health and weight is the sole responsibility of the child’s parents and not of any corporation. Critics of fast food argue that the “Happy Meal” is unhealthy for children and blame companies like McDonald’s when it’s the parents that choose to purchase them for their children. While I agree that fast food is quick and easy, that is no excuse for parents to feed their kids nothing but cheeseburgers, french-fries, and soda. Many fast food restaurants offer healthier choices like apple slices and 2% milk but the problem lies with parents not willing to tell their child “NO”. To expand on that concept, adults are responsible for making healthy choices for themselves as well as their children regarding their weight. A delicious, healthy salad costs about the same as the “evil” combo-meal and takes the same amount of time in the drive-through. Apple slices in place of fries is smart choice for Mom and Dad during the work day because they can be eaten in the car and don’t require short-term refrigeration or re-heating. Some adults go as far to claim they are addicted to greasy food yet refuse to exercise and burn those excess calories. The fault lies, once again, with those personal choices and is not the responsibility of an industry of convenience. Finally, heart disease, diabetes, colon cancer, and a myriad of other health problems are caused by poor choices, heredity, and environmental factors, not the institution of fast food. We know the cause-and-affect nature of poor dietary choices and the healthier alternatives therefor cannot blame a red and yellow-clad clown. The genes we inherit from our parents have an impact on our heath--just as much, if not more--than what we eat so unless your father happens to be an actor in rubber king costume, don’t blame him. That cute little girl with red hair and freckles didn’t put that cigarette in your mouth, force you to work in a mine, buy you a tanning package, or install the asbestos insulation in your home so withdraw the claws already. Let’s bag this issue and realize that class-action lawsuits and government intervention will not make your child a better athlete, will not bring you back to your high school weight, and will not improve your over-all health.

Exotic Feline Rescue Center

Hubby and I made the two hour trek to the Exotic Feline Rescue Center just outside Brazil, Indiana last weekend and it was definitely worth the drive! Dozens of volunteers and thousands and thousands of dollars make it possible for these mistreated, neglected and abused cats to have second chance at life.....

Since its founding in 1991, the EFRC has served as a nationally recognized leader in big cat rescue, conservation and care. In the past 19 years the EFRC has grown from its humble beginnings with only three exotic felines to today caring for over 230 cats, representing nine different species.

Shiloh the serval was seized from a crappy circus, parts of her "Run" are constructed from old circus rail cars.



Dakota the lynx.




These are two of three sleepy male lion that live together in a bachelor group, they've been together all their lives. They were so malnourished and poorly bred that they couldn't put their hind legs down at the same time due to shortened ligaments. One was always sticking out. Thankfully, all the cats have had corrective surgery.



This beautiful chocolate and cream tiger was born to a white tiger breeder where three out of four cubs are slaughtered at birth because they lack of the perfect white coat. She is a lucky survivor.



Omy Nom Nom



Vinny Bob is a lover, not a fighter. He's learning to walk on a leash and hopes to be an ambassador in an animal outreach program.




Am Water Sprite, not Tiger! Love water. Eat. Sleep. Poo. Pee. All in water. Yay water!



You and yer cameras ah not relavunt to mah intrust.



Hi, my name is Tom and I'll be your tour guide today. Please follow me and keep arms and legs away from the fences or my friends will eat you.


Please visit their website or, even better, make the drive to Brazil, Indiana and visit these beautiful cats.



http://www.exoticfelinerescuecenter.org/home.html

Bad dreams

I woke up Saturday morning and crawled to the bathtub to soothe my weary bones. I've been achy and sore for a minute and my bathroom retreat is better medicine that any of the prescribed pain-killers currently in my medicine cabinet. My husband came into the bathroom a short time later with a pained look on his face saying, "Leaner, Leaner, Leaner."

"What's wrong, Baby?"

"I had a horrible dream."

"I'm sorry. What was it about?"

"Well, its silly but I had a dream that you were Raptured and I was left all alone so I decided to go home to Massachusetts. To my parents. But when I got there my parents became angry with me because all I did was mourn the loss of you. It was a very sad dream".

He wiped tears from his eyes, sniffed a little and said...... "Honey, what's for breakfast."

Case in point: sometimes we are confronted with our greatest fears via movies, songs or perhaps dreams. Obtaining the perfect balance between what is and what might be is a delicate task. Be careful you don't forget to appreciate everyone that helps you become whatever you want to be.....

Higher learning is cutting into my blogging abilities

In case you haven't noticed, dear reader, I haven't been too custodial in regards to my blog as of late. The reason for this tragic and blatant disregard of enthusiastic blog-a-tude is the result of too much school work and for that I apologize.

It was brought to my attention, by more persons than one, that I seem to majoring in blogging this term as all my classes save one revolve around either writing or typing. That having been said, I was also asked why I haven't written anything new since week two of the current term, what with all the writing and presenting skills I'm gleaning from my classes. So I decided to share with you some of what I actually have been working on lately.


Below is the rough draft of a persuasive speech I am in the process of writing for my presentation skills class. If you have any thoughts or recommendations please feel free to message me or post them below. (And if my Communications facilitator is reading this I, once again, must admit I am double-dipping. This week's controversial topic writing assignment was way too awesome not to morph into a bad-ass persuasive speech. Am I wrong, Jason?)


Important disclaimer: the project below may contain information, observations or opinions not suitable for all readers. Anyone who knows me personally will notice I've crossed outside of my Prudy McPrude comfort zone in order to concoct a written presentation relevant to my interest in social behaviors and the fact that since I'm a medical student I will soon have to discuss these matters with patients without vocally spelling words like v-a-g-i-n-a. Deep breath.

Without further ado, I give you:

Teens Should Have Access to Reproductive Health Education and Contraception Without Parental Consent

Good afternoon. First, I would like to ask a question: by a show of hands, who in the room is currently raising a daughter? Excellent! For those of you with daughters, I would like us to do a roll-playing exercise. Let’s pretend that I’m your fifteen-year-old daughter (I know, it’s a stretch but please, bear with me). I’m your fifteen-year-old daughter and I just came home from school. I say to you, “Mom, Dad, we need to talk”. Are you dreading this conversation yet? As your young daughter I am dreading it more, trust me. “Mom, Dad, I’m pregnant”. Okay, by a show of hands; who’s freaked out right now? Let’s try one more. “Mom, Dad, I have herpes”. Now who’s freaked?

There is a growing school of thought and action advocating that teens should not receive any contraception or reproductive medical advice without written parental consent. Members of the health community are bracing for impact for the following reasons. A recent study conducted by the Journal of the American Medical Association, has found that around 20% of sexually active females under the age of eighteen would rather rely on the Rhythm Method (avoiding vaginal intercourse during approximate periods of peak fertility) or the Withdraw Method (or coitus interruptus, if you get my meaning) in lieu of having an uncomfortable conversation with one or both parents. (Jones, 2005) Unfortunately, this proposed legislation is riddled with dire consequences.
Jones, R. The Journal of the American Medical Association, Jan. 19, 2005; vol 293: pp 340-348.

There is an opposing belief that school girls under the age of eighteen should have access to contraceptive aids and reproductive education without their parent’s consent for several reasons. For instance, the denial of contraceptives to a sexually active teen (or teen that desires to engage in sexual congress in the near future) is not and never has been an effective deterrent for “under-age” sex. Young girls who know they are already grown, mature women will not abstain from sexual intercourse just because they do not have access to products that prevent pregnancy or the spread of STD’s. On the contrary, this denial can result in a sexually transmitted disease or surprise pregnancy. In addition, according the Reverend Clarinda Crawford, lack of proper sexual education can result in an adult woman who’s insecure and uncomfortable with her own persona and not the confident, vibrant woman who God intended her to become. (Reverend Clarinda Crawford of Congress Street Methodist Church)

In addition to the risk of STD’s and becoming the youngest grandparents in town, disclosing information to parents of young girls who request contraception and/or reproductive health education is a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality. The American Medical Association states that the Oath of Hippocrates is a code of ethics that all doctors are required to take before practicing medicine. Commonly called the Hippocratic Oath, it is designed to prevent physicians from divulging the medical treatment history of a patient to an outside party, this includes the parents of teens in almost every state in the US, for now. Patient privacy must be maintained regardless of age in order to continue compliance with the Hippocratic Oath. (AMA Code of Medical Ethics, http://www.ama-assn.com)

Finally, the common misconception that the bodies of girls in their mid-to-late teens aren’t developed enough for safe sexual intercourse or carrying a baby should be dispelled as a complete myth. Any physician not affiliated with the Religious Right can tell you that teens--more so than women in their twenties or especially thirties--often carry their babies to full term and give birth to healthy children with fewer complications than those ten to twenty years older. These babies are usually well-adjusted, calm infants and toddlers and are doted upon by their young parents and grandparents.

In short, denying essential contraceptive products to teens just because they do not have parental consent can and often does, result in pregnancies and possibly STD’s. Requiring full disclosure to parents of a teen requesting contraception is a blatant violation of doctor-patient confidentiality and reproductive education should be available to anyone, regardless of age, to insure your daughters won’t become tragic STD statistics and damage their bodies beyond repair due to the lack of a signed permission slip. "Sexual Health--Health of the Nation" Michael Adler, Sexually Transmitted Infections (2003, 79:85-87).

Does anyone have any questions? Or want to throw a rock at my head?

Other source cited: British Medical Association, BMA House, Tavistock Square, London WC1H 9JP, United Kingdom.


Another adventure in writing came last week when asked by Jason, my Com instructor, to produce a definitive paragraph. One fellow student defined the "know-it-all" (loved it)and I choose the Uber Aggressive Mommie-blogger (later changed to the Ultra-Aggressive Mommie-blogger. It seems Jason prefers English rather than German as the language of choice for us fledgling writers).

I again welcome any constructive criticism either int he comments section below or via personal message or e-mail.

Disclaimer: Please do not take personal offense to the body of work below. Much like my persuasive speech this was conceived purely out of academic necessity and is not the inner window to my heart and soul but rather a casual grouping of observations via contact with--literally--hundreds of people in benign hopes of an awesome grade.

I give you, dear reader, The Definition of the Ultra-Aggressive Mommie-Blogger:

An ultra-aggressive mommy-blogger is a mother (or possibly father) who constantly shoves unwanted information about her or his children down other people’s figurative throats while acting aloof either in person or in written form.

For example, some mothers feel the need to Tweet, or blog or update their facebook status every time their child has a bowl movement or says a word, any word at all. Or when I bump into a lady I haven’t seen since high school, I don’t really need a twenty minute diatribe on the first seven years of her child’s life or how motherhood is so much better than attending college or having a career. At least I can block them on facebook, at the grocery store I’m all but trapped.

Another habit of the ultra-aggressive mommy-blogger is instructing other parents in how to raise their kids utilizing words like “always” and “never”. For instance, one mother will say to another, “I always make sure my kids are in bed by seven p.m.” or “I never let my children have sweets.” It is almost impossible to use the words “always” and “never” without stretching the truth and some parents use them incessantly.

And finally, the behavior I abhor most in the ultra-aggressive mommy-blogger is the belief that anyone who chooses not to have children is somehow deficient morally, financially, or socially. They can’t seem to wrap their brains around the idea that not all married couples want to have babies. A small percentage of parents actually become defensive or even combative around couples who have chosen to be child free.

To summarize, the ultra-aggressive mommy-blogger shares unwanted information with anyone in which they come in contact, can come across as brash and bossy toward other parents and occasionally becomes somewhat hostile when around couples who are child free.

Here are a few of the comments from my fellow classmates; the names have been changed to protect anonymity.


I like your paragraph although some of the words i couldn't understand or even know what they mean, but at the same time i thought that your paragraph was very true. -Bambie

I do like your paragraph I thought it was very true, the writing is done very well just that some of the words used couldn’t understand.-Chelsea


I love this! I think it is very well writting! And also so true, I hate when people over due their kids! Lets say “work on transitions!” lol-Linda-Lee


I hope you, dear reader, can understand why I've been neglecting my blogging duties and can appreciate that school is awesome and I would be a student for the rest of my life if it paid a dime.

Welcome, Faith Korbel to the list of followers (please don't judge me as a heathen).

To the lovely Reverend Clarinda Crawford (is that even your title?): thank you for the insight into human sexuality from a spiritual point-of-view.

To Gretchen, Aubrey, Ashley and Kirsten; please don't divulge the subject of my persuasive speech until I have a chance to speak with Ann to find out whether or not its suitable for our hyper-sensitive classmates.

And to all the mommies out there, young or not so young; please do not misconstrue my meager attempts at writing assignments as the end-all-be-all of what I think or feel personally. I'm only able to write what is pulsing through my brain at the time words are needed to obtain another glorious "A".

Culinary Douchebaggery

I really haven't done my fair share of grocery shopping (read:none at all) so no one but me is to blame for the following story.

When I came home from class today I was starving. Left-overs from last night? Nope. Milk? Eggs? Nada. Anything in the fridge worth eating? At all? Hell no!

Hummm. Hum. Hummmm. Laaaaaa. Laa. La... Nothing in the cabinets either. Damn! I peek around the kitchen door toward the pantry a mere eight feet away. There's a problem lying between me and the yummy yummy food inside that door. I smelled the poly when I got home but my fears were now confirmed as I hatefully stare at the blue painters tape marking exactly where I can and can't walk. Josh finished the new floors today. And guess where I can't walk!! Gahhh!

Fine. I return to the kitchen to rifle through the cabinets yet again. There really is quite a bit of food in there but most of it's in box form and requires milk to make plastic-tasting cheese. Well, what do we have here? Spam? Really? I double-check the expiration date because I definitely don't remember buying Spam. Seems safe enough.

I don't know how to cook Spam. I don't even remember ever eating Spam. So I sliced it up and fried it in a pan. EVOO, a little spice and some pepper-co-jack cheese. Toast the bread in another pan. Mayo on one slice, Sweet Baby Ray's on the other.. Ummmmm it was absolutely awful! Culinary fail number one for the day.

After I slept off my death sandwich I decided I really was going to eat something. An entire jar of pickles sounds good. I'll have that. Oh man, there weren't as many pickles as I thought. Better go get the other jar!

Dear god! I'm ill. I need food and I need it now. Popcorn! I'll have popcorn and go to bed. It's my favorite pre-snooze snack. Whenever I'm feeling sad Josh always offers to bring me a minibag to cheer me up. And this has been a sad day, indeed!

Yay! Popcorn! Something I actually want. Can I have two minutes on the clock please, Mr. Amana? I stick my head in our giant pots and pans cabinet to get my popcorn eating bowl just as I hear popping (not popping as in corn going "pop pop pop" but rather as in "I think the fucking microwave is on fucking fire" sort of "pop pop pop"). I bash my head on the counter on my way up from the pots and pans abyss. There are lights flashing in my eyes and in the still rumbling microwave.

I pull the plug out of the wall and punch Mr. Amana in the face. Well now what? I peek back around the corner at the pantry. It's almost as if I'm planning to sneak over there or something, like doing this might help in some way.

Lightbulb! I'll just wet down my feet a little and even if the floor is not all the way dry I can still get over there and grab some food. Ha! So smart! I run to bathroom on the other side of house as if I weren't just standing three feet from the kitchen sink when I had this revelation. Wet feet. Run (not sure why I'm running again, perhaps it ties in with the "sneaking up on the pantry" plan) through living room. Fall down. Get up. Check feet for wetness. Still wet. Ok.

I make it back to the dinning room, managing to not fall down and take that first tiny step across the blue tape. Hmmmm. Doesn't feel sticky. Good. Step, step, step, pantry. Whoo-hoo! I throw the door open and grab the first thing I see and run (sigh) the eight steps back to the kitchen and notice I've grabbed something that pretty much has to cook in the microwave. Fail number, I dunno six or something.

Back to pantry. Grab. Back to kitchen. This time I've managed score a can of Campbells Chunky Clam Chowder. Yummy! Can opener, lift drop squeeze.... No click/hiss sound. Try again, lift drop squeeze.... What the deuce? No click? No hiss? It's a ring-top can but without the ring. My husband must have broke the ring off then put the can back. Zomg! Clearance too huge for can opener. Jesus H. Macy, I'm doomed! Again. Fuck!

Nonono. I'm not about to give up on Chunky, no way. I even get a pot and turn on the stove to kinda wish myself luck. Grab hammer. Grab butcher knife. Several cuts and abrasions later soup is simmering. Yes! Stir stir taste. Hmmmm. Something is wrong and I wonder if perhaps I've permanently damaged my taste buds eating garbage. Try again. Stir stir taste. Shit. Retrieve can from trash. Double shit. The label says stuff like "Salt-free!!!!!111" and "heart healthy". Whaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

Panic panic panic. So hungry! Ok. Add sour cream (after I pour the ucky water/oil mixture that always accumulates in the sour cream tub into the trash) salt, lots of salt, pepper, garlic and the last of my taco cheese. Still taste like paper mache. That's it. I'm going to Taco Bell like I should have six hours ago when this culinary debacle started even though I really should be going to the grocery store to get proper food.

O'Doyle Rules!

I can't believe it. Don't want to admit it. I'm in my thirties so it hadn't crossed my mind as a possibility. But it's true. And now I have to deal with it.

I. Have. A bully! Or a reasonable facsimile.

For those of you who don't know I am once again a full time student currently in my second term at Harrison college. New classes started last week so I'm acquainting myself with brand new material, three new instructors and some classmates I've yet to meet. Classes at Harrison are centered around participation and group learning which I love. People with my personality type tend to thrive in that type of environment. What can I say? It combines my two favorite things: learning about interesting subjects and running my mouth.

I first noticed a person had taken interest in me Tuesday of last week. I would make a comment or answer a question and would immediately here a mumble from the opposite side of the room. I didn't think too much about it; people mumble all the time. None of my business. Right? Right. Besides, I wasn't sure who was speaking let alone what was being said.

Thursday I really began to see a pattern. I identified my attacker and deciphered some of the comments. While this person voiced her overall disdain for the class, the instructor and the material at random, specific negative remarks were landing after my comments in iambic pentameter. Today the activity escalated yet another notch.

Me: atomic number = number of protons in the nucleus. atomic mass = total number of protons and neutrons.

Facsimile: pishhhahh.

Me: I remember it this way, protons = pro = positive, neutron = neu = neutral.

Facsimile: yeahwhateverthatmakesnosensewhatsoever. Sheshhhhhhh.

Me: at one point I had to memorize the table of elements. All except for the lanthanides and actinides (after being specifically asked a question by the instructor).


Facsimile: didanyoneelseunderstandanyofthat, no? Ididn'tthinkso. Pishhhhaahh!


I should probably throw in that another person in our class is so into chemistry that every time he opens his mouth even the instructor gets confused. He might as well be speaking Sanskrit. He vomited a particularly obtuse string of words that had the whole class reeling so I offered to translate for him which was well received by the entire class save one.


Facsimile: ohjesuschristyouhavetobefuckingkiddingme.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I get along with every person that knows me; I won't say that everyone I meet likes me right away. But I do know that once in awhile, every two or three years I meet someone that absolutely hates every bone in my body and wants me to know it. I know I rub some folks the wrong way so-to-speak. I'm an adult and I handle it.

A particularly difficult concept came up and I was once again specifically asked by the instructor if I had a different way to approach the subject and I said "nope". Three faces turned to me as if to ask "why not?". "I don't want to make this harder for anyone. I just don't think I can explain it so everybody will understand." Two more faces. "I don't think I have anything instructive to offer.". Five pleading faces. "Sorry", I mouthed in a whisper. "I'm done for today."

I spent the remainder of the class paying attention, answering questions in unison with the rest of my classmates, feeling dejected, smug, angry, sad and awesome at the same time. When class dismissed I gathered my things and a few fellow pupils I didn't even really know gave me a nod or smile. One girl I'd never even talked to said something along the lines of "when exactly did you take a shit in her cereal?"

As I was leaving the instructor pulled me aside, asked me to stay after for a minute. Uh-oh! I knew for a fact that I wasn't in trouble but just like it's been about a hundred years since I've had a bully it's been even longer since I've officially been asked to stay after class.

It seemed to me that everyone was taking their damn time leaving the room and I started to feel rather sick to my stomach. I had to present the first speech of the term in front of many many people I didn't know in less than two hours.

A hot mess, I was!

Hours later it seemed everyone was gone save my instructor and me. Now I really like this particular teacher; she taught two of my classes the previous quarter and we have a great rapport. She thinks and relates material a certain way because that's the way she understands it. I am her polar opposite. I process information like a young child or someone with a learning disability. I take what I find easy and build up to greater concepts utilizing mnemonic devices, movie quotes and visual diagrams. My learning techniques are often silly and funny and she likes that about me.

Ms. Awesome Instructor pleads with me not to shut down. Asks me if I know why
Facsimile is attacking me. Wants to know what I think about the whole situation and if we knew each other. I assure her I have no idea who the hell she is and wonder about it myself.

She then asked me a question that really shook me. She asked if I wanted her to take Facsimile aside and speak to her...... And I'm thinking: I'm 30 (something) years old and the teacher is keeping me after class to ask me about why I'm being bullied and do I want her to intervene.... Fuck!

No no no. I tell her I will handle it myself if the behavior continues or escalates. Besides, with an attitude like that, Facsimile will most likely quit
before the end of the term anyway.

Pranky-pranky!

It has come to my attention that I rock trashcans! That's right, I use my superpowers for good instead of evil these days and I decoupaged (glued stuff to other stuff) the hell out of that garbage bin. I'm thinking of making an art portfolio featuring this and only this as "my work". I'll then offer my services as an "Artist" for sale on etsy.com. Photos yet to come.

But that's neither here nor there. I've called you all together because I'm ready to confess a few crimes I might have committed as a teen (high school and college). Kim, you inspired me! Names and specific locations have been omitted to protect the guilty (and the powned).

Window prank

Crew: 3-4 (you could do it with 2 if you had to but I wouldn't recommend it unless the occupants are on vacation and there's little to no police presence in the immediate area)

Tools: lock pick, credit card or spare key

Materials: 1. occupant's towels, linens and scarves 2. Anything not nailed down

Location: 3rd floor or higher apartment or dorm (also works with a second floor bedroom but again, would not recommend)

Objective: use sheets and towels to hang the occupant's possessions out the window. They either walk into what looks like a burglary where the bandits escaped via window by way of sheet or they come home from class to find their thrift shop dining set dangling on the side of the building. (Go ahead and disassemble the bed frame if there's time.) Either way it's win win!

Forkin'

Crew: depends on how much time you have

Tools: none

Materials: forks. Lots and lots of plastic forks

Location: someplace with a big ass yard (no dog)

Objective: It's pretty simple. Impale entire yard with forks (tines up or down, doesn't matter) until the yard is full or you run out of forks

Changing Rooms

Crew: 1-4

Tools: most likely none unless you need to remove table legs or headboards (I always carry a multitool and an alan wrench)

Materials: a 3-prong adapter if you choose to move the fridge

Location: house or apt interior

Objective: Take everything (not nailed down) from the living room, dining room and kitchen and put it in the bedrooms. Take everything from the bedrooms and put it in the kitchen, dining room and living room.

Note: if you decide to move the fridge stick around for awhile and make sure the breaker doesn't trip!

Other little pranks that can be fun;

Put a fake wedding announcement in the local newspaper

Put someone's house up for sale

Make fliers for free puggle puppies complete with phone instructions to only call between 11pm and 5am only

Steal a doorknob (or two)

Take the wheels off someone's car

Sign someone up for Amway, STD dating networks etc.

Disclaimer; Married with Kittehs takes no responsibility for any pranks past or present and if any of the above pranks befell you at some point, it wasn't me!