In Grade School:

Mrs. Toscano (fifth grade)-- eccentric old lady that taught me, both my sisters, and about 20 of my cousins. Obsessed with making sure everyone knew how to play the ukulele and followed her way of cutting out letters.

In Junior High:

Mr. Lockwood (Social Studies) -- liked to chalk up erasers and throw them at us. We wore navy blue uniforms so it was a bitch trying to get the chalk out.

High school:

Mr. Plourde (Junior/Senior Religion) -- always had gas bubbles while lecturing. No one wanted to sit in the front row because he was known as the resident pedophile. Those who sat in the front row made sure their legs were crossed at all times. TOTALLY obsessed with skirt length checks.

Mrs. Lockwood, no relation to Mr. Lockwood (British Lit/Debate coach) -- always farted during lectures, had a habit of digging her ass and then rubbbing her finger under her nose. I isht you not.

College:

Professor Henriksen, or Mimi as I called her (World Civ) -- the coolest prof I ever had; taught classes like Viva Las Vegas, America's TV History, Sports in America. Often brought her daughter to class and played boy band music before every lecture. Also had a habit of taking those clip on mics and sticking em in her mouth just so there'd be feedback blaring in the lecture hall. Every Friday I'd hang out with her at the campus bar and we'd down BIG BASTIDS (32 oz. cups o beer) like there's no tomorrow...and eat onion rings.