Things that are made to be broken.
I walked into my Catholic School class, breaking as many "rules" as I could. I had a hat on (twisted halfway to the left), chomping on gum and blowing big pink bubbles, shirt untucked, no belt underneath, shoe laces undone, and to top it off I walked in five minutes after the bell. My teacher nearly had a heart attack when she saw me slouching in my seat and in this state of so-called "disrepair." She shrieked at me. "You know the rules! No gum, shirt tucked in, a belt, and your shoes MUST.BE.TIED! Get to class on time next time, or instead of a tardy I'll send you to the principal. Now get out your homework!" I nonchalantly asked, "What homework?" She screamed, "You know the rules, do your homework." And I responded deadpan, "Rules are things that are made to be broken."