I've always kind of hated April Fool's Day. I mean, if you can come up with a really good prank that's cool, but most people just use it as an excuse to lie.
Like, telling your boyfriend "I'm pregnant," waiting for the look of horror on his face, and then being all, "April Fool's!" is not an April Fool's joke. Calling up a friend and asking him to interview a Ms. Ella Fant at the Bronx Zoo and actually getting him to call... well, that actually happened to my dad, and it only worked because it was the 70s and he was naive (and probably high).
I'm pretty bad at April Fool's jokes. The only good one I ever pulled off was in 2005, when Jeff foolishly gave me his email password (which was, awesomely, 80085... get it? Try typing it into a calculator) to check something for him while he was stranded somewhere computerless. I abused my powers by firing off an email to Jeff's family telling them that he couldn't hide it anymore, that he simply loved the work of Anne Geddes (Jeff, who is a photographer, hates Anne Geddes. He hates her even more than he hates Billy Joel. If you show him a baby dressed as a pea pod he might drop-kick it.) That was a pretty sweet moment for me, and one that I have never bested.
Happy April Fool's Day, though!
P.S. I'm really a man.