My Prom Adventure circa 1981
Apparently it’s almost prom season? Is that correct? Somehow this information has seeped into my consciousness, via newspaper/television advertising, I guess. So, I thought I’d take the opportunity to briefly tell you about the first of my two proms. That’s right, two.
Sweet sainted mother of TV’s Dwayne Schneider…
Far in advance of the senior prom I started receiving data from my drinking partner Hank (a fake name). His girlfriend, let’s call her Brenda, had a friend who reportedly wanted me to ask her to the Big Shindig. I hadn’t even considered attending, and didn’t know this girl at all; I’d never said a single word to her.
But Hank and Brenda kept pushing me to do it, and lobbying to beat the band. “We’ll go together, the four of us,” they said. “It’ll be great!”
I started noticing Kelly, the girl in question, and she was certainly no hag. She was pretty, and seemed nice. Why did she want to go with me?! Perhaps there was some sort of mental illness at play?
Finally, after a couple weeks of social pressure I called her. And even though it was all set-up in advance — she knew I was going to ask her, and I knew she was going to accept — I was nervous as hell. I probably had a matching pair of serving tray-sized sweat stains.
Shockingly enough, she said she’d LOVE to go to the prom with me, and seemed genuinely excited by the prospect. Weird, man.
So, Hank and I went to the tux store and ordered our hideous 1981-era formal wear. His was white (with tails!), and mine was brown — a brown tuxedo.
My mother informed me I was also expected to present my date with some sort of flower deal that attached to her wrist. I had no idea… Why would a person want to wear a bowling brace constructed of roses? It seemed bizarre to me, but I ordered one anyway.
Hank and I also made arrangements to lay in a large amount of red wine (fancy!) for the evening, and have it properly chilled, etc. Oh, it was all quite complicated…
Between the day I asked Kelly to the prom, and the dance itself, we went out a few times. You know, since we’d never spoken before… And she was great; there was no discernible psychosis, or anything of the sort. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad?
I picked her up in my parents’ white Monte Carlo (I can’t remember people renting limos in those days, but what do I know about it?), her mother took a million pictures, and we followed Hank and Brenda to the restaurant we’d chosen for dinner.
Hank was not only wearing a white tux with tails, but also had a top hat and cane. The dude looked like a logo, and was talking a mile a minute. Later in the evening I found out why…
We’d made reservations at a fancy-ass restaurant in downtown Charleston, called Lindy’s or Lacey’s or something like that. The waiter had a questionable accent, a square of linen across him arm, and a pepper grinder the size of a table leg.
I’d never been in a place like that before. The most upscale restaurant I’d ever experienced was probably, oh I don’t know, the Ponderosa Steakhouse? This joint was ridiculous. The menu was huge and cast a shadow across the entire party seated beside us, but only had about five items listed on it.
I fumbled through the ordering process, trying not to sound like a complete rube, and went with a steak of some sort. I also ordered a 7&7 from the bar, because it was the only cocktail I could remember. Yeah, I didn’t much care for it, but in those days beer wasn’t acceptable in fancy situations.
Anyone care to guess the final tab on that meal? I’ll never forget it, as long as I live: $72! My tux almost turned a darker shade of brown when ol’ Linen Cloth handed me the check. According to this site, today’s equivalent would be $170. And I think I still had my paper route at the time.
I barely remember the prom itself, it was just a bunch people walking around in uncomfortable clothes, trying to be sophisticated. Needless to say, I didn’t engage in any dancing, or anything of the sort. We hung around and talked to people, got our picture taken, and left.
And here’s where things get interesting…
Hank had made arrangements to gain access to a fishing cabin(!) near the Coal River, through a friend of his brother. So, the four of us went there, and immediately broke into that rotgut wine we’d purchased.
The cabin was fairly nice, with a living room/kitchen in the middle, and bedrooms off to the left and right. However, the water was turned-off, so the toilet wouldn’t flush. And after a while it got a little funky in there… like a parking garage stairwell in downtown Atlanta. Romantic!
We sat around drinking for a while, but Hank and Brenda eventually went into one of the bedrooms. Which left me and Kelly, barely acquainted, listening to those two “romance” each other in the next room. The serving trays were probably returning…
I asked Kelly if she noticed how weird Hank and Brenda were acting, and she said they’d been taking “speed” all evening. I didn’t really know what that meant, but didn’t care for it. Drinking is one thing, and popping pills is quite another.
Eventually I got up the nerve to instigate a little light make-out action, but we’d only gotten started when Hank came busting into the room all out of breath. He was wearing nothing but his white tux pants, no shirt or shoes.
“I need your help, guys!” he said. And as he made this confusing statement (our help?) I noticed that the tip of his wiener was hanging out of his zipper. Good God…
“Something’s happening to Brenda!” he said, and we all went running. She was completely naked, atop the bed covers, and was convulsing or somesuch. I couldn’t believe what was happening before me. I mean, I wasn’t the most worldly sumbitch, and here I was looking at a naked cheerleader. Sure, she was having a seizure (I guess), but that was secondary — by a longshot.
I don’t want to be too crass, but everything was neatly trimmed, which seemed wildly exotic in 1981.
I think it was the pills, and all the alcohol she’d guzzled. I don’t know. But she was fine within fifteen minutes. It was one of the more surreal events of my early life.
Some other things happened at that fishing cabin, but I don’t really want to get into it… Let’s just say I left that house of urine a changed “man.”
The prom committee had rented a movie theater in Charleston for the night, and we decided to leave our cabin at two in the morning, or whatever, and see what was showing. It was something incredibly boring, starring Alan Alda (wtf?). Everybody was throwing shit in there, booing, and raising hell.
Then we went to a place known as “Party Hill” and drank some more, with a bunch of other couples — including Bill from WV and his date.
As the sun was coming up, all four of us were having breakfast at a home-cooking restaurant in Dunbar. And my Dad was getting ready for work when I finally dragged my ass through the door.
“Have a good time?” he asked, not mentioning that it was 6:30 AM.
“Yeah, it was great,” I said, and went upstairs. I kicked off my shoes, turned on some music (Tommy Tutone), and laid there reflecting on the previous twelve hours. It really had been great.
Kelly and I continued seeing each other — for the next six years. And as far as I know Hank and Brenda are still together, married for decades.
Now it’s your turn… Did you go to the prom? How was it? If you have any stories to tell, use the comments link below.
And I’ll see ya tomorrow.
Filed under: Daily
1st!
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2nd apparently. I went to a couple of proms, and within the last few months finally apologized to the girl I took to the senior prom.
She accepted my apology graciously and that’s that.
It was not a big deal, no laws were broken at the time, but an apology was warranted.
No further details will be forthcoming.
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I had two girls at once after prom, the first and only time that’s happened.
No further details will be forthcoming.
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????
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5 proms. no limos. one mustang.
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No prom here. We hosted a Morp. Yep, a reverse prom, complete with Natty Bo, 7-11 nachos and an outdoor screening of The Road Warrior on a TV/VCR we hauled out into the backyard. It was just right.
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Sr prom…I took the cutest brunette you ever saw…awesome body…looked like the skater Nacy Kerrigan but with a bigger rack. I remember her prom dress jacked up around her waist…legs akimbo…all there in the back seat of my ’66 Belair station wagon (454.cu.in..positrac rear end) in the parking lot of the 2nd Congregational Church…ah, good times…good times.
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Top 10? Well slap my nuts and call me nostrils! I was thrown out of my junior prom for punching a dude in the face after he called my date a bitch. He was right, of course, but it is the principle of the thing!
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testing, 1, 2, 3
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3, 4, 5
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Ads vs. Reality ripoff –
http://izismile.com/2009/04/27/fast-food_products_on_ads_and_in_real_life_14_pics.html
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A good friend went to the Senior Prom and spent a ton of money on preparations in order to impress some girl he’d met at the mall: fancy restaurant, huge limo, designer tuxedo, tropical-bloom corsage and wrist-thingy, the whole nine yards. He ended up getting belted by his date when he endeavored to initiate some carnal activity. Not a slap, but a full-on punch in the face resulting in a swollen lip. And the girl left with some other guy. Meanwhile, I didn’t spend a ton of $ on a tuxedo, corsages, or anything else, dressed normally, drove my own car, went to eat at Wendy’s, saw a dollar movie with a girl from my neighborhood, and got laid anyway.
Twice.
And I’d been told I’d regret not going to my Senior Prom. Bullshit.
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I think a lot of HS kids did that drug back then. Now, you can buy them over the counter at most convenience stores.
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You lost your virginity on PROM NIGHT? Sweet sainted mother of Brenda Vaccaro!
Someday you’ll tell us why you and Kelly broke up?
No proms here. Hells no. Itchy dresses, fusty ol’ wrist cosages, expectations? No thanks. I drank a pitcher of screwdrivers with a friend (it was my 18th birthday to boot) and was home by 2 a.m.. PARTY!
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I was having nothing to do with the prom. Instead my friends and I went to a house party out in the middle of nowhere where there was no fear of any police deciding to stop by tand sticking their noses where they weren’t needed. We smoked, drank, blasted music, had huge bonfire (and a few other things I won’t burden you with), all while dressed in comfortable clothing and without paying $35 for a ticket.
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I went to my prom.
It SUCKED!
No one had the balls to drink OR take their clothes off….losers.
In other news my internet is fixed (HECKS YEAH!) and I survived the previous weekend, which, by the way, was prom time for my two teen-aged daughters.
I can only hope and pray that I won’t be a grandmother in nine months and Mr.Man won’t end up in jail for manslaughter (If either one of the girls is knocked up.)
I think I’ll have beer for supper now….thanks for bringing the whole prom thing up today Jeff.
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Since this is a U.S. based site, I will utilize your fifth amendment rights.
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Wow…prom. Many moons ago. But I must say I went 4 years straight with an assortment of characters. My senior prom was the most memorable because it was the first year they held it at the local “country club” instead of the ol’school cafeteria with paper mache decor ala “Gease”.
My date was this farmer dude from another high school **boo-hiss**! Met him while working at McDonalds to earn my keep at home. Since it was during the 80′s, you can imagine the hair/mullet…..mine wasn’t much better. Teased out to there…I had quite the “boof” going….so teased you could see light through it. Now, back in those days tanning wasn’t so frowned upon like it is now. So, every day after school I was on the tar roof of my parent’s house swathed in baby oil. The darker the better! My date, of course, was white as a baby’s butt. Our prom picture was hilarious. He’s completely washed out and all you see of me is teeth and eyeballs, sporting a one shoulder gown with a big ass tan line up the “open” shoulder. HOT! We made our big entrance in a Ford pick-up F250 with 36″ tires, 8″ lift kit and 6″ body lift. Eat your heart out, Rednecks.
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I had a similar “didn’t know her, but was told she wanted me to ask her” situation that didn’t turn out nearly as well. She looked great and was a very sweet girl. We were getting along fine when she took off for the powder room with a couple of her friends. After an hour, I asked another girl to go in and check on them as none of them had come out. Turned out that one of the popular girls puked all over my date’s dress and she’d been trying to wash it out. She came out and even to a high school guy, it was obvious she was crushed in her stained white dress. I drove her home and was back home myself before 10:30 pm.
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Wow, the ads vs. reality ripoff didn’t just steal your idea, he straight up stole your pictures and gave no credit as to where they came from. Wotta douche.
I went to a few proms. Nothing too exciting. I think drank vodka mixed with snapple at one of them and did some heavy petting with a friend’s date at another. Waste of money.
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Senior Prom — Utter disaster, which, even though 30 years has passed, still embarrasses me too much to reveal the details.
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No details at all will be forthcoming!
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One prom here. Had Carol lined up a month ahead. Then, about a week before the big day Carol sort of insists that her younger sister, Jenny, needed a date and it was my responsibility to find her one. You see, Carol would put out and her dad was wise. So, younger Jenny was evidently the chaperon. Shit.
Surveyed all my buddies, all had dates or didn’t want to go, or would not go with Jenny, cause Jenny ain’t good lookin, at all.
Finally found a guy, Kent, who wanted to go and did not care who he went with. Kent ain’t good lookin, either. Sort of a short, overweight Mick Jagger with lots of zits.
Didn’t expect a good time but I was wrong. Kent and Jenny were like 2 dogs in heat in my back seat. It took about two beers to loosen her up and Kent was on it. There would be no tattling from young Jenny after what I saw going on back there.
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Too funny, I was just telling prom stories with a friend! Went to prom 3 out of 4 years – senior year was the only one that was worth it. Our school hosted an after prom sleepover party in the gym, which I remember my mom pushing on me. Something about fun…yeah, we were much happier camping out in a field with a bonfire and countless bottles of booze. I got drunk on mostly Goldschlager and a hint of Montezuma tequila – vile.
A girlfriend drove me & my date to the party and we repaid her by (as Jeff would say) “romancing” in both her tent and the backseat of her car. There was an entertaining incident involving the backseat and my 250-lb football player date…no further details & all that.
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No prom here. The guy I dated all through high school was older than I, and he couldn’t attend. When he had his senior prom, I couldn’t go because I was only a sophomore. I was robbed!!
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We didn’t have proms! THANK GOD!!!!!!!!!!! i went to an all male boarding school! I am screwed up enough as it is:)
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The only prom I even bothered to get dressed up for or had any intention of attending was my senior year. I ended up eating to many shrooms and was mentally incapable of attending. Yeah, I make my Momma proud.
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I went to junior prom with a group of friends, and danced a handful of times – the best one being a slowdance with a gay guy friend of mine.
Senior prom, I went with my bff and our gay guy friend (different from the guy above, though I’m sensing some kind of theme here). We had a room at the hotel the prom was held at, but there were no sexy shenanigans for the 3 of us. Oh, except for some sexy-posed but fully-clothed pictures we took on the beds and in the bathtub. Our gay friend did invite another (closeted) gay guy to our room, but the invitation was declined.
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Another surf report classic. Can’t wait for the book to come out. I have a feeling there is more gold to be mined in the Kelly stories. Was your dining establishment that night Laury’s?
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I went to two proms, when I was a Jr and then when I was a Sr. but for the life of me, I can only remember going once. It was unspectacular, and i guess the other time was even less memorable, literally. so I don’t even know why I bothered writing this… depressing.
I did want to jump in with shaking my fist at the jerk who stole Ads vs. reality. cheater. I added my own pissy comment on his site. that’ll show him
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Jesus Christ in a Chicken Basket. I thought we were talking about PORN, not PROM.
So sorry. Tadpolegal and I are not saying a word.
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At my high school, you could only go to the prom if you were a junior or senior. I didn’t go when I was a junior, but did go my senior year. I was dating a guy that went to a different school, so we went to his prom too. I wore the same dress to both of them, so at least my circa 1987 pale pink, frufru Cinderella dress got 2 wearings.
I liked the attention at my prom because at school I was the quiet, shy, mousy girl that no one talked to. At prom, everyone gushed at how awesome I looked. Amazing what a dress and a little makeup can do.
My bf’s prom was lame. He went to a small HS in a farming community, so the prom committee didn’t exactly have much of a budget.
Didn’t have to rent a limo because he borrowed his rich uncle’s Audi for my prom, and the Mercedes for his. I wanted him to borrow the Jaguar, but he was too nervous to drive it. Whadda weenie.
No drunk or hanky panky stories though. Broke up with him about a month later. Not sure what ever happened to him, but I have a feeling he was/is gay.
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The horror….the horror….
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Never went to a prom. Or any dance or school function for that matter. Wasn’t my kind of thing being a loner and social outcast and all.
Once after graduating (no, didn’t go to that either-they sent my diploma in the mail), I guess I was 19 or 20 , a relative asked if I would take a coworkers daughter to her prom. I didn’t know the girl or her mother and they didn’t know me. I declined. They had to be scraping the bottom of the barrel. I figured if they had worked their way so far down the list that I ended up as a potential acceptable escort to some girl’s big night to remember that something was seriously amiss. I immediately knew no good could come of it. None. I didn’t know if she was a waterhead or if she mainlined mayonnaise or was a syphilitic midget but something was screwy somewhere. I smelled a set-up and I wanted no part of it.
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Prom date was a girl I dated only a few times. Farm girl out in the sticks. The parents where going through a divorce and the day I went to pick her up he had tried to kill them. The mom and two girls were in their car and the dad was ramming it with his truck to keep them from going some where. Not much happened good after that.
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Had to read through all the comments first to determine whether or not my prom date filed her thoughts on the matter at hand, and whether or not she had to have therapy as a result.
My junior prom date was the most charming girl I dated in high school. She became a kindergarten teacher if that gives you some idea about her personality. I still have love in my heart for her.
We didn’t do the boom boom let’s go back to my room (oh, how I wish to Daffy Duck to this day that we had), nor did we get drunk. Senior prom … well, that’s another story.
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Two proms, One when I was 15 and my date was my mom’s student helper. she was from a different school district and way hot. No sex but thirrd base was reached. I don’t dance very well but I was cutting a rug at this thing because it wasn’t my school. My date loved it. Senior prom was the run of the mill thing. Fancy Dinner, Dance (No rug cutting this time),Beer, Sex, More Beer, Breakfast, then home to sleep all day. It was a good time.
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Just and FYI guys…that site that ripped off our friend Jeff has now put “credit: thewvsr” at the bottom of the pictures…Good call on the pissy comment Alice in WV…
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May in Indiana back in 1976, 1 prom, 1 military ball, 2 different girls, no luck. That’s what I get for initiating the classic Napolean Dynamite look. Even danced like him back then. We had chinese food at the Tiki Hut and rode to the prom in my best friends mom’s station wagon. everything was kinda boring until my friend pulled out his stash and rolled a fat doobie up and cranked up Rush (2112) on his 8 track tape player. At least we went to the prom with a righteous buzz.
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“her mother took a million pictures” – Proof of the culprit in case theres a up and coming attraction in the next nine months…
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No update today, I’m afraid. I have to go to work early for a so-called meeting. Ha!
See ya tomorrow.
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My prom date was a real fire ball with a mean streak. Especially after the bucket of pigs blood nailed her. She didn’t have much of a sense of humor.
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@ Oral – bet her mom was a nut case too!
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No prom, no homecoming. My boy had a classy date for his first prom (10th grade), and 6 dates for his 2nd (group date). I told him that since I was turned down asking a girl to homecoming, I never asked another girl out in my life (including my darling wife). His response? ‘Sucks to be you.’
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Went to the prom with a large group of friends and females. We ended up getting real drunk before the prom and my buddy puked on the principle and was able to blame it on another kid standing near him. That was pretty rock and roll seeing as how the kid had banged his previous girlfriend. We then continued to a hotel room that had been rentend for an “after party”. Things continued along the downward spriral or consumption of alcohol, marijuana and what we thought at the time to be a good idea… shrooms. My date, a petite – smoking hot blonde that I was infatuated with for quite some time decided that she was going to partake in some of the fungus. I found this to be a bit interesting because she was a rather conservative girl that barley ever drank at parties and looked down upon my friends that liked their recreational activies. I thought this was a bit odd but I supported and the party continued. It was getting late… probably something like 4am when I was had enough balls to press the issue of “premarital consensual”. She was getting pretty goofy but agreed whole heartedly. We had to retreat to a minivan in the parking lot, but boy was I excite. She began by playing the skin flute and things were progressing nicley. Next thing I knew she was on top of me and we were going at it pretty hard. She kept getting goofier and goofier over the next couple of minutes but I could give two shits…. until she actually shit on me. She was hot enough that I repaired the situation and nailed her a couple of more times before we graduated.
Looking at the mess in retrospect I can not say that I am proud of the situation. But does it make me a bad person to say that I am not ashamed either??
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Oh, prom… My Jr. prom, I had a date with this nerdy little freshman boy. He was a sweet guy, and a good friend.
After the dance, we had migrated out to the parking lot and were talking as we prepared to walk home in opposite directions. He asked me if he could have a kiss, and I decided that it was harmless. He ended up shoving his tongue in my mouth, and then getting shoved into a brick wall.
He has hated me ever since. Evidently, I was supposed to be desperate enough not to reject anyone.
I do, however, have some degree of dignity. Too bad for him!
I was spitting all the way home. My first kiss, and it was rape!
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I skipped both proms for lack of a date–rules said you couldn’t go stag. I went fishing both years and camped out alone on the riverbank.
Junior year I didn’t give a shit–I actually helped them build all of the props since nobody in my class knew how to use tools. Senior year, I really wanted to go. Made a list of 25 girls of interest, in order of hotness, and make it to number 13 on the list. The endless string of rejection was too much–so I junked the list and went fishing. Fuck it.
Buck OUt
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I was not so smooth with the women back in high school. So, I went fishin’ on prom night. Now I regret that I missed my prom, as I apparently also missed out my one and only chance to witness convulsing naked cheerleaders and other various forms of demented forms entertainment as the the rubber turkey was gobbled up by the night’s dark rubber mouth. I’m pretty sure the fishin’ was good that weekend, however. Prom season also coincides with the time of year that the bass are bedding.
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@Biff Spiffy – Don’t beat him to badly, he only meant it in jest. That does suck though. Just make up for lost time by taking Tiff out for lots of “dates” and don’t come home from the date until breakfast time. When the kids ask where you’ve been, tell them it sucks to be you.
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@ Maki – He was a victim of confused protocol, he wasn’t told the “no tongue on the first date” rule. First time I slipped a girl the tongue, she threw me against the wall too. But that was so she could have me pinned as she slipped me her tongue. ‘cuse me, I have to go take a cold shower now…
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Is that how you got your name, Skid Marks?
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@ Buck – You can’t use the same line you used on the first twelve. You had a target rich environment when you where helping with the setup. Tools are like date magnets dude! Chicks dig dudes with tools…
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@ Gretchen – i wasn’t gonna go there and you did…
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Oh, Shiny Rod. You can always count on me to go there and Jason to take it all the way out to BFE. ;o)
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@ Lee Harvey Ramone – You and Buck weren’t involved in one of those Broke Back Mountain things where you? Seeing both of you went “Fishing” on Prom night…hhhmmmm!!!
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I didn’t go to my junior prom for lack of a date.
My senior prom I had to ask him, so I picked a guy I knew had a crush on me since we were freshman. 2 weeks before prom he started dating one of my friends. We still went together, but I had to deal with him ditching me at our post-prom party to go do her.
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@ Gretchen – Hey, I just scanned the page and where your Prom story?
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@ Lew in Bama – That was such a prick move from him. the gentleman thing would have been that he at least have the decency to take you home before he planned his poking party with his skag girl friend. That was so uncool.
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Fine, dammit. My first one started going down just like Marge Simpson’s (and apparently also Maki’s, see above), ‘cept I got off the crazy bus right before the guy’s prom when it became apparent he wouldn’t accept the whole “just friends” concept. I managed to return the gown and he was forced to madly scramble for a new date. Despite the passage of twenty years, he’s still pissed off at me. But his Captain Kirk action figure with inflatable ego understands him.
Second prom, my senior one, I was set up with some asshat from another school who acted like a total douche at my prom and got me in big shit with his ma later when Mr. Grabby Hands refused to remove himself from the couch where I was trying to sleep at his house. Yeah, I’m leading your precious boy to ruin.
Shoulda gone fishin’.
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@ Gretchen – Some guys just don’t accept the concept of Prom (date) thing, they think it’s wo-ho time and evey girl is just ready to get her bones jumped because she accepted the offer of going out for and what should be an enjoyable and rememberable date. I was always taught to be the gentleman and let the young lady set the tone. If she likes you, she will let you know and you take your cues from her. No amount of liqour is going to change a NO to a yes. She may forget she said no uder the influence, but no means no no matter how much alcohol or drugs you give her. There should once a year be a “Prom” for those who missed their Prom or for some reason or another, their Prom got screwed up. complete with pictures and all the Prom trimmings.
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Thanks, Shiny Rod. I second the motion. So where were you when I was looking for a prom date? ;o)
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My rule has always been that if I go through the trouble of wearing my black t-shirt with a moon and a wolf’s head on the front, and I splash on the Brut 33, and I bring a bucket of imitation crab meat and a bottle of Strawberry Hill wine to your house and pick you up in my El Camino (complete with Astro Turf in the bed) so that we can go have a picnic, then yes, you’re going to need to let me run you through. There’s nothing wrong with that.
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And there we go, straight to Bumble Fuck Egypt.
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HAHAHA
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@Jason – “you’re going to need to let me run you through”.
Pure Classic!
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@ Gretchen , Shiny Rod. A local radio station has a “Time Warp” prom every year. Check it out here:http://www.mix1077.com/pages/Time_Warp_Prom_2009_Photos.html
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Those are hilarious pictures, Doug2. Thanks!
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I lived in the sticks so we had to drive to the next town to go to dinner before the prom. My 83 Shitvette (aptly poo brown in color) broke down and we had to hitch a ride to dinner with some dunk half-dressed hicks in n RV. All I can remember is that they kept talking about Mrs. Doubtfire and how he “Burned his boobs! har har…!”
Then we had to hitch back. we left my car on the side of the highway….
So my mother happens to go to town… sees my car… and… calls the police. The police come to my prom. Misselle (me), date, and friends are exceedingly stoned and can’t remember where the car went… which led to an APB for carjackers….
Oh God. The aftermath. Grounded UNTIL I LEFT FOR COLLEGE two months later.
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I’m so lonely, I wish I had someone to talk to – and that’s no joke. My wife is from Germany and her English is worse than mine.
In the absence of updates I’m forced to over-comment.
This morning an old man said to me, “The economy is shit, son, and all the jacking off in the world won’t change that.” And I said, “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing hiding under my desk?”
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I know this is late and no one will read it
but skidmarks wins hands down. Took a shit on him and still had the teenage lust to pull it off? Damn, you the man. I don’t know if I could have pulled that off (ha! you know how Jeff would’ve reacted… “and I can’t have that”). But nowadays I think that would’ve killed the mood.
And @Great Googly Moogly, I’m with’ya man. High school sucked.
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Late I know…
Well, I never shit on anyone at prom…went to 3, got pretty f’ed up and still never shit on anyone… lucky me (and them). I didn’t really have much fun at prom the first time or the 3rd…the 2nd I went with a great guy I was dating and we had a total blast (that I barely remember). And I looked smokin’ hot each year. SMOKIN.
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