I shouldn’t be allowed on Facebook

You know what’s awesome?  When your high school starts a “Remember When” page on Facebook and everyone is filling the pages with “Remember when’s” that have nothing to do with you and then you realize that you remember pretty much nothing about high school except for spending 4 years hiding in the art room and so you and your sister hijack the page and then no one ever responds at all because they think you’re a freak and then you remember that that’s exactly why you spent four years hiding in the art room?  That’s what’s awesome.

Also, it might be a little bit sad.  But mostly awesome.  I’m on a lot of vicodin.

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177 thoughts on “I shouldn’t be allowed on Facebook

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  1. This is amazing. Even better than when I got kicked out of my high school reunion Facebook group for calling everyone trailer trash when my profile picture proved I was the one in the stripper garb, dancing for money. I’m from the asshole of Canada, where they qualify people like me as a success.
    .-= emvandee´s last blog ..A little list for the lovely Miss Rosa. =-.

  2. Not sad. Totally awesome. Don’t forget to talk about that time you guys all got stuck in detention and bonded over how the one thing you all had in common was how different you were. And also how much you liked to smoke weed on school property.

  3. We have a game called ‘fuck with drunk people’ where we pretend to recognize people at bars who look about our age and launch into ‘stories from high school.’ Points assigned for if they just go with it, more if the stories get REALLY weird.

    I think that pretty much describes your involvement in that group.
    .-= K´s last blog ..It’s like my mouth is pooping sadness =-.

  4. That’s so weird, I had the exact same high school experience, except I also slept under a chinaman named after a duck’s dork.
    Hard to enjoy John Hughes references without getting flashbacks of Judd Nelson at this year’s Oscars. I’m so scared. Hold me.
    .-= lbelgray´s last blog ..Retail of Horror =-.

  5. You’re from Surrey emvandee? THAT’s awesome.
    We used to say “Living in Coquitlam means never having to say you’re Surrey.”
    Except I’m not there anymore either. Awesomer.

  6. Ah Bloggess! Love this post on many levels and weirdly I was just on Facebook trying to care enough to do something with my profile. I am sort of embarrassed to admit I only opened a FB account one month ago. The decision to succumb loomed for years. Due to the whole high-school smell associated with it.

    We didn’t have an art room. I guess. Or at least I didn’t know about it–it’s possible I could not see through the smoke in the girls washroom or the smoking pit where I hung out and scowled and tried not to let anyone notice my trembling neck (what IS up with that–when I am stressed I get shaky head and an eye twitch–that is great in high school… or doing a presentation… not that I do those).

    Anyway, good luck dealing with your FB issue. And big bonus points for bringing up 80s movies… (sex, lies and videotapes? classic James Spader…. )

  7. Ahh, yes, the “I remember” deals. I think I might have actually been kicked out of the one my class had…It’s not my fault they all sucked and I spent high school hiding in a tree. They missed out on the magical ninja squirrels, and I’m too damn lazy to fill ’em all in on it.

  8. That is *beyond* awesome. I may have to tryout K’s “Fuck with the drunk people” game too. Sounds like too much possible fun for me to possibly resist, lol.

  9. I hid in the bathroom from 8th grade through 12th. I only came out when a couple of guys said they had real-life proof of an alien and that I should bring my camera.

    I still have nightmares that I am in high school, and I’m all- but I remember finishing college! I have kids and stuff, I shouldn’t be here, and they’re all, no, you forgot to finish this one class. Then a few weeks ago I actually had to go to my old high school to do something and I was all, holy crap, my recurring nightmare is actually happening! That means that later I’ll probably be in a play and not know my lines and then shop naked and try to cover myself with a big sombrero.
    .-= LS´s last blog ..How Not to Make Money From Your Blog =-.

  10. Dear Jenny,

    What some would consider failure, others would consider insurmountable wins. Like trying to get kicked out of FB groups. THAT is truly ambitious: to determine the degree of offensive behavior permitted before being socially ostracized. Heh. Ambition Against Ambivalence (AAA for short)

    Umm..so yeah. I totally forgot what I was going to comment in this comment now. Hope you feel better hun!

    -T
    .-= Tony hunt´s last blog ..xmas05 =-.

  11. The photography lab in my school was way better than the art room. And it had a pop-up VCR with a corded remote. And great chemicals. And a cute teacher. Perhaps this is why I’m a photographer now?!? Are you sure you didn’t hang out in the school newspaper annex?
    .-= Kate´s last blog ..This too shall pass…. =-.

  12. Well that shits on my high school reunion where I played the game of “guess how many kilos the bitchy super skinny popular girls who gave me shit all through high school have gained game”. There was also the higher level of the game where we had to assign roles to the bitchy girls husbands eg alcoholic, bigamist, most mistresses, least braincells, transvestite, hermaphrodite. Oh the possibilities were endless. I must say my game was very satisfying.

    You are in no way sad. You’re like awesome!
    .-= Rusty Hoe´s last blog ..Face Validity =-.

  13. My high school memory: I was sent by some man to kill a guy named Col. Kurtz ‘with extreme prejudice.’ I got out alive but just barely. Me and one other guy. They napalmed the whole place! But hey, I killed Col. Kurtz so it all worked out. I was SO into The Doors then.

  14. Ahhh…fake high school memories.
    I never had anybody sign my high school yearbook. I had friends and all, but I was just too cool to act like I cared. So in college, my friends found my hs yearbook and started writing all manner of filth in it: “Remember the dry cornholing we did in Miss Cavalo’s class? Hahahahahah–LYLAS, Dan”–that kind of thing. ( Do people still use “LYLAS”?) That yearbook is now on a bookshelf in my parents’ house. I wonder if they’ve read it.
    .-= beta dad´s last blog ..My Cruel Wife and Her Cute Babies =-.

  15. Dearest Bloggess,

    I’ve recently stumbled upon your blog. And by recent, I mean two days ago. So, yeah, that is recent but it feels like a freaking eternity. Why? Because I literally can’t do anything else but read your freaking blog. Nothing. In two days, your blog is already on my scroll-y list on my Firefox. What? That’s insane. I keep trying to be productive and pass my college courses, but no, I am reading about the obscure things you do with cats and other household animals and, actually, all animals. I don’t know if I’m fascinated or horrified, and I mean that in the best way possible. I keep trying to write this damn paper about fucking Confucianism, but no, nothing. All I want to do is keep reading. I’ve been scouring the archives, literally laughing my ass off (no, well, not literally, but I wanted you to get the point. You can’t lose your ass by just sitting. Trust me, I’ve tried.) Anyways, I don’t know whether to thank you or to flip you the bird. Obvs, you’re funny. You know this. You don’t need me to tell you this. I don’t want to be an annoying fan, because I’m like, actually cool, contrary to what this message is going to look like. But, seriously, I’m actually addicted. For example, my friends are all like, Meg, come to lunch, and I’m all secretive, like, no, I’ve got to do stuff on my computer. I haven’t told any of them what I’ve discovered, because I want to be the awesome one and read your shit beautiful writings by myself. They probably think I’ve developed a porn addiction. Oh God. Whatever. Anyways, I just felt the need to explain to you my dilemma. I read your blog, and I think, we’re fucking soulmates, but you can’t tell someone that because they’ll get all freaked out and shit. But I’m telling you. I read these things, and sometimes I think you’ve actually lived inside my brain, because it’s the same. IT’S THE SAME. Ugh, okay. Well, don’t think I’m a huge creep. Well, I am, but our developing friendship doesn’t need to know that. Ugh. Well, I’m sending this to you. If I don’t get a response within one day, I’m seriously offing myself. Or sending you a vial of my blood wrapped in pot. I haven’t decided yet. Be my friend. The end.

    Also, it sounds like you were slightly more popular than me in high school. On my page I’d have to say, “Remember that time I could never fully drink out of the water fountains? I always had to lap the water like a freaking dog because of my mouth piece. Thank God I had those sweaters with the dress-flap thing, that I could wipe my mouth and not be a complete dweeb. Yeah, good times.”

    Love,

    Megan, the insomniac college student whose friends think she’s addicted to porn, but really it’s just this effing blog, so yeah, maybe porn. Or maybe this is actually Joan Cusack. Mystery.

    PS. No one judge me, ya hear? I’ve got a fragile soul. Kind of. I might be a liiiittle drunk. It’s college everybody.

  16. Dearest Bloggess,

    I’ve recently stumbled upon your blog. And by recent, I mean two days ago. So, yeah, that is recent but it feels like a freaking eternity. Why? Because I literally can’t do anything else but read your freaking blog. Nothing. In two days, your blog is already on my scroll-y list on my Firefox. What? That’s insane. I keep trying to be productive and pass my college courses, but no, I am reading about the obscure things you do with cats and other household animals and, actually, all animals. I don’t know if I’m fascinated or horrified, and I mean that in the best way possible. I keep trying to write this damn paper about fucking Confucianism, but no, nothing. All I want to do is keep reading. I’ve been scouring the archives, literally laughing my ass off (no, well, not literally, but I wanted you to get the point. You can’t lose your ass by just sitting. Trust me, I’ve tried.) Anyways, I don’t know whether to thank you or to flip you the bird. Obvs, you’re funny. You know this. You don’t need me to tell you this. I don’t want to be an annoying fan, because I’m like, actually cool, contrary to what this message is going to look like. But, seriously, I’m actually addicted. For example, my friends are all like, Meg, come to lunch, and I’m all secretive, like, no, I’ve got to do stuff on my computer. I haven’t told any of them what I’ve discovered, because I want to be the awesome one and read your shit beautiful writings by myself. They probably think I’ve developed a porn addiction. Oh God. Whatever. Anyways, I just felt the need to explain to you my dilemma. I read your blog, and I think, we’re fucking soulmates, but you can’t tell someone that because they’ll get all freaked out and shit. But I’m telling you. I read these things, and sometimes I think you’ve actually lived inside my brain, because it’s the same. IT’S THE SAME. Ugh, okay. Well, don’t think I’m a huge creep. Well, I am, but our developing friendship doesn’t need to know that. Ugh. Well, I’m sending this to you. If I don’t get a response within one day, I’m seriously offing myself. Or sending you a vial of my blood wrapped in pot. I haven’t decided yet. Be my friend. The end.

    Also, it sounds like you were slightly more popular than me in high school. On my page I’d have to say, “Remember that time I could never fully drink out of the water fountains? I always had to lap the water like a freaking dog because of my mouth piece. Thank God I had those sweaters with the dress-flap thing, that I could wipe my mouth and not be a complete dweeb. Yeah, good times.”

    Love,

    Megan, the insomniac college student whose friends think she’s addicted to porn, but really it’s just this effing blog, so yeah, maybe porn. Or maybe this is actually Joan Cusack. Mystery.

    PS. No one judge me, ya hear? I’ve got a fragile soul. Kind of. I might be a liiiittle drunk. It’s college everybody.

  17. My friend and I hijack facebook comment feeds all the time. But none as awesome as that. That was excellent. I had to read it to my sister, I think I may have found you a new fan!
    .-= Randa´s last blog ..3, 2, 1, CONTACT! =-.

  18. Alright, so I’m new to this whole blog thing (no, I’m not ancient, I just don’t do it. Get over it.) Anyways, I just wrote a heartfelt note/post/thing and I guess it’s too freaking long. So, I’m going to send it to you via e-mail. So, check it. I will be anxiously awaiting a reply..? Gosh, maybe I really am an 80-year old living in a college student’s body. Don’t hate.

    a little excerpt relevant to this post:

    It sounds like you were slightly more popular than me in high school. On my page I’d have to say, “Remember that time I could never fully drink out of the water fountains? I always had to lap the water like a freaking dog because of my mouth piece. Thank God I had those sweaters with the dress-flap thing, that I could wipe my mouth and not be a complete dweeb. Yeah, good times.”

    Love,

    Megan, THAT girl, the one who doesn’t know how to do anything/is so tired but can’t stop reading this friggin’ blog and is impatiently awaiting your reply to my e-mail. Or maybe this is actually Joan Cusack. You’ll never know. Mysteries.

  19. “I remember…” how MUCH I hated high school.
    Am beginning to think Facebook is for folks who never got over loving it.
    Fabulous move on your part. Braver than hell. Vicodin really works for you. 😉
    dahlila
    p.s. hope you’re feeling better soon.

  20. Vicodin? Those are useless. I used to take four of them, then walk around the neighborhood shouting at people. Percocets, now those are the magic. Never could get the doctor to give me more than one or two at a time though.

    Bastard

  21. I applaud your Facebook group sabotage!

    I agree with dahlila – all the folk from high school who’ve added me on Facebook are either the assholes who deemed themselves the popular ones and tortured me for wearing blue socks and black shoes (god forbid), or the people less popular than me (which is really scraping the barrel) who are now married, and add everyone they ever new during those awkward years on FB to tell them so.

    This is why I don’t like people.

    Or Facebook.

    Jo
    .-= Jo´s last blog ..Because I’m convinced that The Dead Kennedys sang the jingle for the board game ‘Operation’ TV advert in the 80s =-.

  22. You nailed it. Facebook is basically two things:
    1. A high school reunion where people find out where you are, what you’re doing and what you look like. (And what your wife looks like) Let’s be honest, shallow-ness is a lifelong quality.
    2. A place where people in your town can gab about their kids, or the PTO meeting or some other unimportant gibberish.
    OK, fine, I partake too…a bit.
    It’s Twitter that I can’t stand.
    .-= One of The Guys´s last blog ..Cougar vs MILF =-.

  23. Don’t forget the time you got detention. Duckie wasn’t there and neither was the asshole rich guy, but you wound up meeting a bunch of people you never would’ve gotten to know otherwise. Remember the jock, criminal, nerd, and basketcase? I was the basketcase. I think they nicknamed you princess and there was something pretty cool that you could do with lipstick. Don’t you forget about them. And me.
    .-= Theresa Milstein´s last blog ..Bonding =-.

  24. I hated High School. Didn’t like the leg warmers,the “cliques”,the pep rallys.
    I was the “emo” girl who stood across the street smoking cigarettes with the other people who didn’t like it as much.. if not more then me.
    My only solace is that now my not-so-emo attitude enjoys the hell out of watching all the popular Kid’s beg for people to plow their farms, feed their fish, and boast about being level 200 on Mafia Wars!

  25. I wish you went to my high school. I just have someone who posts the first line to a dirty limerick and everyone fills in the rest in my FB high school friends. I so would prefer to swoon to Jake Ryan’s memory.
    .-= Fairly Odd Mother´s last blog ..Twenty =-.

  26. Wow. I was so irrelevant in high school I didn’t fit into any category. Or was it irreverent? I guess it turns out I was in the “uses big words inappropriately, but no one else knows the difference because basically everyone in high school is stupid” category. Not a lot of dating going on in that group.

    (Then I went into engineering where I was in the category of “female”. Statistically about the same representation, but significantly more attention.)
    .-= harmzie´s last blog ..Breathe =-.

  27. Didn’t Duckie end up doing it with that skinny chick from Designing Women?

    I spent high school in the computer lab making dirty greeting cards on the Tandy 3000. Good times, good times.
    .-= Lisa T.´s last blog ..My free chairs… =-.

  28. We can be your friend on facebook? Or is that just for family? Because I am pretty addicted to facebook…and twitter….I spend a lot of time doing a lot of stuff I shouldn’t be while I should be working and since I work from home running my own business, it’s really not a good thing. I have to be careful, by boss can be a real bitch. All up in my business…damn, here she comes!

  29. Are you kidding me? People should be THANKING you for replacing their crappy memories (remember that time Billy felt you up behind the bleachers and then told everyone you went ALL THE WAY?!) with memories of delicious Jake Ryan!
    .-= Leslie´s last blog ..Like Proust, only with chicken =-.

  30. This is filled with amazing bad assery!
    Also, you are SO lucky that John Cryer and Molly Ringwald went to your HS. That alone makes you WAY cooler than any of us 😉
    .-= Christina´s last blog ..Run Forest Run =-.

  31. I’m so going to have to work out how I can insert this kind of thing into my friend’s and her sister’s posts ranting about how our liberal government is ruining the world!

    The people from my high school are actually pretty cool and would totally have played along with your game!
    .-= a´s last blog ..An open letter to Kodak =-.

  32. Sometimes my sister turns to me out of the blue and says “Thanks for getting my underpants back” and I know that we really are related.

  33. Be truthful. You’d have done that whether or not you were on a lot of Vicodin. I moved on from Vicodin, two scrips ago, and I still don’t have the genius/balls to do something like that.
    .-= middle-aged-woman´s last blog ..Brainy or Wise? =-.

  34. I don’t think I’ve ever commented here, though I’ve been reading for a long time, but this cracked my ass up! Thanks for the laugh!

  35. I just wanted to thank you for including the word vicodin in your post today. It’s in a post for tomorrow and spell check kept saying I was spelling it wrong and I kept saying if there is one thing I know, it’s that I *know* how to spell vicodin. So because of you, I know I am right and spell check is wrong. You are like a PSA for vicodin.

  36. What about that summer at the camp in the Catskills? That older, hamdsome dance instructor? I carried a watermelon…

  37. You totally suck, because Jake Ryan left me at that party and I was all drunk and someone shut my hair in the door and it had to be cut! Then I woke up the next morning in that car with that nerd and a big chunk of hair missing!! I’m pretty sure it traumatized me for life, which explains so much.

    ♥Spot
    .-= Spot´s last blog ..Aliens & anal probes = reality TV =-.

  38. Holy cow, I knew a guy named Duckie too who totally wanted to date me. But he wasn’t at all cute and rather I ditched him for a really awesome guy with super long hair who was a tattoo artist.

    Mostly because I have my friggin priorities straight. On the other hand…you couldn’t freaking pay me enough to re-do High School. Ughh.
    .-= Mesina´s last blog ..The 90’s, back when we were cheesy and depressed =-.

  39. jenny, i seriously love u. here i am feeling all stabby and cranky, laughing out loud not just at u, but all ur crazy blog buddies.

    @megan the insomniac college student: welcome to the club. u’ll fit rite in.
    .-= Super G´s last blog ..Visions of Africa =-.

  40. My 7 yr old daughter loves looking at the photo on the top of your blog. I can’t tell if she’s enticed by the rollers or if she’s already beginning to identify with the despondent, “is this all there is” look. crap. I just realized that she recognizes that look because she sees it on me.

  41. I always wished High School like a movie but alas it wasn’t. And the weirdest thing was I was drunk freshman and sophomore year and I remember it all but when I got sober (age 16) I can’t remember anything that happened Junior or Senior year. Is that weird?
    .-= Jenn´s last blog ..High Fivin’ Is Groovey! =-.

  42. Hey! Do remember that time I let the lawnmower guy hire me to pretend to be his girlfriend? Boy was he an asswipe for a while. But it turned out okay because we got to ride out into the sunset on his Big Lawnmower( if you know what I mean wink wink). Not even my Super! Crimped! Hair could keep him away. I miss that lawnmower.

    Guess what? He became a dreamy doctor!
    SQUEEE!
    .-= followingtheroad´s last blog ..The best PSA in the history of PSAs =-.

  43. Ah, yes! It is high school reunion time! Well, I HATED HIGH SCHOOL! When I graduated, I didn’t give a rusty fuck if I ever saw any of those people again. When the reunion stuff started, my thought was, “If they want to see me, they know where I live!”
    Then one reunion, my closest childhood friend talked me into coming and spending the weekend with her, so I did. We went to the big party, and it was there that I became reacquainted with a guy I had known since 4th grade. He was seriously good-looking, and had been voted “most likely to succeed” and “best looking” in our senior year, while I was voted “most likely to do something really quirky.” The upshot of this encounter is that we started dating, and then got married. We’ve been married ever since. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday, other times it seems like 100 years.
    .-= rogueartistsspeak´s last blog ..THE MONSTERS THAT MADE US =-.

  44. i deleted my facebook thingy last year, so i will just have to grace the comments with the glory of my high school stories. true or false? (the stories, i mean. not that i posted them here. that is true. unless a zombie gets me and then types what i was going to type anyway, because it has my brain and knows what i was going to do. if that happens, the zombie better remember to pick up milk). so:

    – i went to the same high school as alanis. almost every morning, when they played the national anthem over the PA system, it was a recording of alanis singing the national anthem.
    – when i walked through the cafeteria, people would yell “GRUNGE!” at me.
    – i took latin class. that is not the punchline. my friend was in the same class, and the teacher made us sit apart from each other because we were too disruptive. TOO DISRUPTIVE FOR LATIN CLASS. you know, the way we would subvert authority by making presentations that were slightly historically inaccurate – were were basically the SLA. also, one of the assigned presentations was “beards and hairstyles,” which required making various cardboard beards. also, hairstyles. i do not know what happened to either the beards or the hairstyles.
    – someone wrote “biatch” on my locker, and i did not understand why they spelled it wrong.
    – one of my teachers was a little on the andy rooney side (senile, not televised), and could never find his tape dispenser. i missed half of history class that year because i had to go on hunts for the tape dispenser.
    – there was a sign in the cafeteria that said “PLEASE DO NOT HANG YOUR HEAD OVER THE SOUP.” of course, i needed that sign. after i stole it, another went up. then someone else stole it, because, really, it was a great sign, and another one went up. if you do not instruct the people, they will hang their heads over the soup and then APOCALYPSE. i think i might be making this up, but i am pretty sure a sign eventually went up next to the soup sign that said “do not steal the sign.”

    i eventually dropped out of that high school, and then a couple more, and ended up getting my last credit at adult night school. i do not think the adult night school holds reunions. if they do, i think the gift bags probably include a noose.

  45. Are you sure you’re on the right high school page? I accidentally joined the wrong one last year and there were all these messages about people I didn’t know and somebody posted a picture of a “fighting duck” mascot and I was all “The hell? We were the bulldogs, I thought? Why is someone dressed like a fucking duck?” and then I realized it was the wrong school but I’ve been too embarrassed to admit it so I just keep commenting on everyone’s posts with stuff like “Yeah that was awesome” and “ha ha ha!! too funny!” and my fingers are crossed that they won’t catch on. I’m planning to attend their 20th reunion this fall.
    .-= Bejewell´s last blog ..It’s Just Amazing I Haven’t Been Snatched Up as Somebody’s Life Coach Already =-.

  46. Your stories remind me of the time Long Duck Dong and I created a super hot babe out of magazine pictures and a computer, but then had to spend all day in detention with a jock, a basketcase, and Molly Ringwald. It was ok though, bc John Cusak showed up with a boom box. We all went on a treasure hunt through a bunch of pirate caves, and when we came out I tried out for the football team even though my classmates thought it was “suicide” for me to do so. I heart high school.
    .-= carolinemichelle´s last blog ..Make it a betta place… =-.

  47. LOL, that’s hilarious. i’d one friend from high school that i’d stayed in touch with and it was always so bizarre when he’d do the whole “remember when…” thing, because NONE OF THAT STUFF EVER HAPPENED. it’s like we’d gone to two entirely different schools – him: “remember when that cheerleader was following me all around, because she had a crush on me?” me: “dude, she was so totally trying to serve you with a restraining order…”

    we spent most of high school hiding in the bathrooms because they painted them all black to deter graffiti, but then paint pens became all popular and a whole new genre of bathroom graffiti was born..

  48. I did something like this on Classmates (does anyone go there anymore?) because I wanted to mess with some people I knew, so I made up a totally fake profile and started messaging them. Most people ignored, but no one got me kicked out, even though my username was Incog Nito.
    .-= Barbara´s last blog ..Nobody wants to read that =-.

  49. You’re so pretty in pink. Remember that time you thought you were home alone, but it turns out your uncle Buck was there? Danke schoen for the good times.

  50. I have prescription muscle relaxants and definitely don’t get high off them. They pretty much don’t do anything. Maybe I’m not taking enough? I should take a lot more and see if I feel drugged. Now I feel like I’m missing out or something. THANKS A LOT.

  51. I remember nothing from high school. I don’t know if that’s because it was 30 years ago, or because I enjoyed the recreational doobage too much, or if nothing ever happened at all. I’m somewhat glad, though it does kinda make it suck that I really don’t know any of the people that want to be my FB friends and they all seem to remember me.

  52. LS – I HAVE THAT SAME DREAM. I will even wonder in it ‘wait, where are my kids?’ On occasion, I have a really awesome moment in which I decide Fuck This! I HAVE the bachelor’s degree and the high school can’t take that regardless of whatever class they say I didn’t complete. Then it ends. Usually it drags on forever, though, with endless hallways of lockers and flights of stairs and trying to get around all the people in the hallways through an obscure attic tunnel, that I am not sure I’ll fit through (being plumper than I was in high school). Right. Who’s crazier here, d’ya think?
    .-= Barb´s last blog ..Clarity =-.

  53. Dudette, you ROCK!
    I wish my sister was that cool, too. She’s cool, but in a totally conservative way where she’s always telling me not to say (fill in the blank) in front of my nephew, or not to cuss in front of him.

    That kid is living a waaay to sheltered life if you ask me.
    .-= Kernut´s last blog ..Life In Malibu – Celebrity Encounters =-.

  54. Thirty years ago was kind of a long time, wasn’t it? Back then all you had to do was scam your Attendance Lady and you could spend all your time wandering town “at the doctor.” Then when that stopped working you could scam her boss and spend your time rushing to the “dentist appointment” your “mom” called to remind you of. They thought I was pregnant and toothless for four years.
    .-= Victoria Mixon´s last blog ..Being a voice in the literary choir =-.

  55. Sex with a manNequin might be weird if it wasn’t for the fact that there was a movie about it. It’s only natural he would seek love like that of Andrew McCarthy and Kim Catrall.

  56. YOUR FUNNY!
    Thanks to Ed T. for pointing my your way.
    Cheers!

    Dave Garcia

  57. That rich asshole you had to bail out is now living in the Hamptons and being a TOTAL douchebag to his teenaged son, who has hemophilia. Fortunately there’s this sweet doctor there who looks in on the son and periodically tries to try out the RA. He really is a Royal Pain.

  58. Wall High School. I’m a Brady High grad myself. There’s nothing like a real redneck upbringing to bring out the best in us! You’re post about your parents brought about so many memories!!!!

  59. I like to screw with applicants requesting more information when my husband posts waitstaff/bartender job openings on Facebook. My favorite game is giving them a “pre-interview” via chat and ask them ridiculously absurd questions like “What would you do if a blind guy and a monkey came into the bar and asked to order a beer that we don’t carry?”. I told him I only jack with the stupid ones. That might be why he changed his password and banned me from doing PR. 😛
    .-= Average Jill´s last blog ..Gift Cards and The Decline of Western Civilization =-.

  60. How could you not even mention making out with Judd Nelson in the closet? I thought that he was special.
    I’m starting to believe that you did not learn the lipstick trick at summer camp.

  61. Fuckin facebook….like I remember these alledged ppl you claim I went to HS with…and how the hell do you know anyway? Were you in my class facebook?! No. Wait….were you? Idk bc I was always skipping class & smoking pot out of a pop can with all the cool cats…which is WAY better than being a slutnugget like some HS chicks. Srsly high school girls—JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE HOLE DOESNT MEAN YOU HAVE TO USE IT–stop humping all the damn time!
    .-= singlemomma_cc´s last blog ..This just in…I AM a woman =-.

  62. I didn’t put my high school and graduation year on my Facebook account because I don’t want to get friend requests from those people. I mean, it was a long time ago. Get over it! Only now you are making me wish there was a remembrance page where I could post silly shit! Good times.

  63. I went to Catholic school so we are all ‘remember that time sister mary elephant smack that kid with the ruler and then he burned in hell?” Also our memories involve a lot of discussion of plaid skirts- so basically my high school memories are a anime porn, so yeah there’s that.
    .-= mountainmomma18´s last blog ..She’s a Maniac =-.

  64. Duckie is the guy in that one show, that has that crazy jingle creator Brother, and has a Wife named Judith.
    And a Son that is hilarious!
    No, It’s not Frasier. lol

  65. This blog is….systematic…hydromatic……why it’s greased lightening!
    I’ve only had three glasses of wine, but would love to pierce your ears.
    It’s not easy being a “slutnugget”. lol

  66. Yeah, you know Jenny the bloggess? Well, we’re friends on facebook. Yeah, its cool. Whatever.

    …Hey, you said “anybody” so…the Hell?

  67. Remember When ? H-m-m-m ! I remember when I first started reading you over at the Chronicle/Mama Drama…That’s about as far back as I can remember you. I also remember when you had the time to make our days and leave prolific comments on our posts. Oh, those were the good ‘ole days.
    .-= Swampwitch´s last blog ..Mowing the Easter Basket Rye Grass =-.

  68. Jenny and I used to do the robot in the high school cafeteria. We’d always finish with this fantastic SUPERSTAR! move. Sometimes she’d get nervous and put her hands in her armpits. That was a little weird. Nevertheless, because of our stellar dancing skills, we became two of the coolest Spartan cheerleaders ever. And by coolest I mean non-existent. We were so cool we didn’t need to even be there. *high five*

  69. I am so the person that no one EVER remembers. I skipped my HS reunion because I’m sick and the sick that I am has made me horribly fat and gives me serious anxiety. Both the sick and the fat.

    I did however try to run one of my best friends dogs for Homecoming Queen. That was the best.
    .-= Stitch´s last blog .. =-.

  70. Wait, hiding in the art room was weird? 😉 Okay, so maybe I spent half the day my senior year in art classes. I ran out of stuff to take so I just took multiple art classes. And graduating with a class of 61 everyone remembers me, I was the “weird, gothy chick.”

  71. Since your current post is in the catagory of “Random Crap,” I would like to tell you about my day! Target sent me an email that my prescription was ready. I went to Target, but the prescription (90 pills) they had for me was one for HTCZ, which my doctor had cancelled! I told them they were wrong, and to please give the correct prescription. I also told them how dangerous it was to give me the wrong drug. What if I were an old person with a tendency to get confused? I could take the wrong pills and DIE! I had to wait another 20 minutes for them to give me the right stuff. Now if they had accidentally given me 90 Vicodin, I would have just paid for it and left, casually but quickly. They could have made a mistake like that because I have back pain which occasionally requires a prescription of Vicodin, but NOOOOOOO! They give me something that only makes me pee a lot. I finally got it all straightened out, but was so frustrated that I just paid and left, and forgot that I really needed a laxative because I haven’t been drinking enough water lately. So I had to go to Walgreens and get the laxative on my way home. So I get the laxative tablets and go to the counter to pay. When the transaction is complete the checker hands me my bag and says, “Have a good one!” Now what in the hell did she mean by that?? Was she giving me an endorsement on the brand of laxative? Did she even realize what she had said? Why do people say that? Do they really give a rat’s ass if I have a good one or not?
    I don’t think so! If I hadn’t been already so frustrated and in such a hurry to get home, I think I would have asked her exactly what she meant by that. Next time, I will!
    .-= rogueartistsspeak´s last blog ..THE MONSTERS THAT MADE US =-.

  72. I remember all the good times in high school like the time I went into the bathroom as a freshman and discovered I didn’t want to come out.

  73. The other guys in high-school:

    – peed on my gym-shoes

    – threw spitballs AND snot-balls at me

    – stood on my desk and farted on my forehead

    – peanut-buttered my homework

    – grafitti’d my locker

    – wrote insults in my yearbook

    I think you were smart for hiding in the art room; maybe that’s what I should have done LOL 😀

    #smilesandhugs
    .-= Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)´s last blog ..sidewalk chalk =-.

  74. Wow. You totally rock! And now I really wish my high school had a remembrances page. Because, and I am not shitting you, here are a few of the things I did out of sheer boredom:

    1. Started a parody religion and made such a popular website for it that it was banned from the school computers. I’m sure that had *nothing* to do with the fact that my religion was called The Nook For Needy Nuns, advocated selling said needy nuns into sex slavery, and was, for a time, a very popular repository for nuns-with-guns porn.
    2. Ran up to the principal while he was at the soda machine and breathlessly warned him that under no circumstances should he press the button for Diet Coke (his favorite) because there was a 7-foot-tall Slavic man living inside the machine. And every time you press the Diet Coke button, you poke him in the spleen. And that makes Bobo angry. And he will pop out and sodomize you to death. (He picked Sprite.)
    3. Brought a three-pound bag of gummy bears to school, bit the heads off all of them, and used my saliva to paste the heads onto different colored bodies. Then used my zombie gummy bear army to restage the Battle of Appomattox.

    Is it any wonder that I was voted senior class “Most Likely to Get Abducted by Aliens”? And by the way, I totally sent you a Facebook friend request.
    .-= Amanda´s last blog ..Go Prez! =-.

  75. My HS was so lame, they don’t have FB presence (unlike me; I have SO MUCH FB presence. Yep.) They had a 20 year reunion, only one I ever heard about, then never again. Or maybe they just didn’t invite me…?

    I’m totally running over there right now to friend you, Jenny, even if you *are* never there. Bragging rights, doncha know.
    .-= gurukarm (@karma_musings)´s last blog ..Happy Ada Lovelace Day 2010! =-.

  76. This. Is. AWESOME!

    I bow before your majesty and aknowledge your superior ability to make facebook cool.

  77. I sooooo cannot wait to use some of this at my 20 yr renuion in a couple years… though with FB I already know what the people I like are up to and how they’re doing… May not need to go to the reunion at all… Except, of course, to fuck with the drunk folks! 🙂

  78. you’re right, J. all the fun is in the comments. i can’t even begin to think of anything clever. it’s like i’ve reached the end of the interwebz.
    .-= liv´s last blog ..maybe did? not dead. =-.

  79. I spent most of the time in band hall hiding out – but if i went to school with you i totally would have made my way to the art room 😉

    and this post pretty much sums up why i <3 u (or reading your blog at least)

    and yea – i'm not witty
    .-= magikjaz´s last blog ..bleh =-.

  80. I think the morons in my high school chose “Don’t You forget about me” by Simple Minds as our graduating class & prom song. Because that was how original they were. Didn’t go to the prom and was therefore not subjeted to the cliche prom song as it was so much more fun to hang out in my older boyfriend’s basement bedroom fucking like bunnies after an 8-ball listening to Peter Grabiel.

    I just received a Facebook 25th year reunion planning notification and am contemplating how drunk I might have to be.

    I applaud your facebook group hijack. and john hughes references.
    .-= Catootes´s last blog ..educational reform, texas dental style =-.

  81. I remember, in high school, this guy had a huge crush on me and he woke me up one morning blaring his ghetto blaster @ my window as it played “In Your Eyes”
    He’s lucky I liked that song b/c I don’t like to be woken up in the morning….it was sweet, though
    .-= NinjaDragonFly´s last blog ..DragonFly Get Away =-.

  82. Ah, Allie Brosh and Jennifer Lawson, two of my favorite people on Twitter! And I’m pretty sure you totally did not go to the same school in the same decade, soooo…. even funnier!

  83. That was fantastic. I especially like the Comment of the Day. Brilliant.

    And, I hope it’s not weird that I’d already searched for you on Facebook (the Bloggess, not Jenny L) and wondered why you weren’t on there. But now you are, so all is right with the world. 🙂

    Especially when you consider that Keith *finally* got over Amanda Jones and went with Watts. Seriously. She had to suffer long for that one. *sigh* Eric Stoltz… *dreamy*
    .-= jenny gee´s last blog ..Thoughts far away =-.

  84. The comment of the day was too awesome and makes up one of the reasons why I hardly comment. People. Too. Darn. Witty. Here.

  85. Daphne, I agree. Hey, Jenny, wasn’t your whole town mental, and wouldn’t let you dance, but then you fought against the evil priest and got with his daughter and managed to dance?
    I heard that this summer, Chace Crawford is going to BE YOU. Now THAT’S what I call awesome. Except that Chace Crawford’s a guy.
    Wow, Jenny…..I never knew you were THAT masculine.

  86. One of our favorite pastimes when my sister visits is stalking the high school (our area even has an alumni middle school page) Facebook pages, laughing at what stories come up or how we can mess with them with our own comments.Ahhhh – good times!

  87. Shut up. The very same thing happened to me in high school. Only there was also this weird exchange student that my grandparents had… his name was something like Short Chicken Penis?

  88. facebook is perfect for exchanges like that–they make you remember why that sister/friend/neighbor/formerb babysitter was so freaking entertaining back in the day.

    my fiance FINALLY decided to change his fb profile pic after a long-lost buddy messaged him: “hey, that 14-year-old lumberjack wants his beard back.”

  89. I remember very little about high school myself. I think that’s on purpose, so I don’t prod my brain about it too much. I am terrified of what might be unleashed. Epic comment, by the way. I totally cracked up, and it’s like 3:30 in the morning… I’m amazed I didn’t wake anyone up!

  90. To the unwashed miscreants who stumbled around the same school as me;
    If we avoided eye contact and verbal communication in the hallways and classrooms and the situation has continued unaltered into our adulthood, then for the love of everything that is good and pure, kindly leave. me. the. fuck. alone.

    Except for the boy I snuck glances at but quickly looked away when you looked at me.
    I was not ‘avoiding eye contact’ with you, I was shy and you should have known the difference.

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