"Horn Blower? It certainly does blow!" she remarked, in an email to former classmates. From country club to crappy yacht her reunion slid downward... and yet she was glad that it was still on. This proved her personal theory that she still had NO LIFE and no clue how to go about getting one. At least the dumb broad had a date. For that she was ever-grateful.
Don't ask what's gotten into me because the whole high school thing has weirded me out...
"Grammar school was nothing but play...in high school the business of irrrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heard clearly in the dreams of later years." -Stephen King, Cujo
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