A hammock. Hanna, you know a hammock is a death trap because you laughed hysterically when I fell out of one in 7th grade at Trevor’s birthday party.
Tag: High School
Going forward, we’ll tap into the pre-made horror of adolescence. A time the healthiest among you have repressed.
Teaching has a way of working you down to the bone. And, frankly, I’m tired. Bone tired.
It was never clear what subject he was supposed to be teaching, since on our schedules it was spelled in mysterious runes that burned your eyes.
All My Fucks graduated from Shame University in 1998 with high honors.
The card was so lovely, but unfortunately, I can’t show you it because there was a fire at my desk.
With each passing day, her resolve grows weaker. She begins to wonder if the girl above will once again leave her in peace.
Compared to 2020’s real-life plague, threat of fascist coup, and so on, your work has suffered from a lack of terrifying imagination.
When I hear this song, I remember how Krakenfuss kept her grocery store open on Christmas Eve. She was the richest person in town and the meanest.
She went on an all-inclusive vacation with her girlfriends last summer. She got double the number of Facebook birthday messages you did.
Hi! It’s Me, the Girl Who Bullied You Relentlessly in High School and I’ll Be Your Coronavirus Nurse!
I haven’t thought about you, but I’m sure you’ve thought of me plenty between the scars I left on your psyche and my popular, unprofessional TikToks.
And my 2007 Autumn/Winter collection: drab brown and caution-tape yellow. Such a foul combination that no one had ever thought to use it before!