I don’t believe in an afterlife but mine would be every pen and book I’ve ever owned returning to me.
October 12, 2013: I realize Marky Mark is saying, “My rhymes make me wealthy,” not “Morons make me wealthy” (which I always kind of respected him for admitting).
Twice last week restaurant hosts greeted us with, “Hey ladies, two for dinn — oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
Nick got his hair cut short yesterday.
Could the 1980s have been any sexier?
They even deliver Sears Portrait Studio coupons to Eternia.
We had officially loved Jason since May 4, when he gave us a hickey on our breast. We wrote a letter to Judy Blume and asked her if she was Jewish. We tried to get our teachers to call us Little Snowfoot and Moonchild but most of them didn’t. We wore our regular clothes on Nerd Day. We guessed we were sort of in between liking people. We were sure Julie was aware that we were fond of her in a lymph-nodal sense. We tracked down his AOL screen name from a posting on the wall in the drama club office. We wrote and performed a play called The Onion Trilogy about cutting our wrists and our grandpa didn’t get it. We were aware that by age twelve we had loved more boys that Venus. We threw in a mention of rainbow trout to see if our diary was still paying attention. We weren’t going to cuss because of you, we were going to cuss because we felt like it. We wanted to find one special guy and spend a lot of time with him at the beach (up shirt). We thought it was funny that our dad said “After Hours” lacked class and our mom said it wasn’t her kind of movie, because we really liked it! We felt that the only thing that could properly describe our love for him was Debbie Gibson’s “Lost in Your Eyes.” We went to Nashville and bought the new Bryan Adams and some Beethoven tapes. We were obsessed with this bootleg version of Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet” where in the third verse, Romeo serenades Juliet with this amazing sax solo. We wanted to wear nothing but hairspray and black underwear just to show our mom how unfair she was. We wrote a poem called “Nuke” that ended with the line “time cannot be destroyed.” We penned an ode to virginity that included the line “You can have your pregnancy test in the Arby’s bathroom.” We could tell that when he said “see you tomorrow,” it was not in that superficial way but he really meant it. We had our first orgasm while dry humping Bubby T. in the downstairs hall next to the cat’s litter box. We knew we may be a nerd but we’d never be boring. We are CRINGE.
i walked into health and screamed and the teacher goes “you’re the 7th person today. they’re cpr dummies.”
Nightmare juice for Seth
Slowly, gradually, yet before our very eyes, James Spader transformed from a supple young tiger into Carmen Sandiego.