The only thing I vividly remember from high school is that in algebra I had two or three boys who would voraciously cover all my notebooks with pictures of phalluses. I was mortified at the time, thinking this was an act of aggression, not of pent-up sexual frustration, and I used to go home and cry about it. Now I just receive sublimated equivalents of the very same behaviors.
Men are terribly silly, but I do enjoy all the free cigarettes. I swear to God, though, if they cover my Moleskine with dicks, it's all over.