Stamped: September 13th, 2005 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: dates of yore, dating hijinks, friends and losers, marketing.
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I guess you could say I was a fiesty one in high school. I sure had a mouth on me, and I let the most inane shit fly out of it constantly. I was always getting in trouble with the teachers. I remember in Applied Econ the entire semester project was to start a company, create a product, market and sell the product. The company was supposed to be set up like a typical corporate hierarchy: President, CEO, CFO, and the rest of us who did all the work, but the principles of the company were the only ones who got paid. I suggested to the teacher that we try two models and see which works best: his blood-sucking capitalist model or the cooperative equal profit sharing model. He said, "Get out of my class." And my counselor told me that I'd better find another class to take because the teacher would not accept me back.
I was so punk rock.
Needless to say, I hated school. Even more than school, I hated my classmates. You see, I went to high school in L.A. and most of my friends were either aspiring for fame, children of famous people, or just had pooploads of money. They used to spread rumors about me, like that I was a lesbian or a cokehead. Which couldn't have been farther from the truth since I was fooling around with all their boyfriends and I could barely toke off a doobie without falling flat on my face. One day I started hearing a story make its way through the rumor mill. Apparently everyone was talking about how I had picked up and thrown in a trashcan the famed son of Chicago Seven leader Abbie Hoffman. America (his real name) Hoffman, it seemed, was the one that started this rumor after he tried to kiss me and I socked him in the jaw. I swear to you, I never put him in the trash. I still cannot figure out why he thought it would be better to be known as the guy that was tossed in the trashcan rather than the guy punched by a chick. I guess I underestimated his feelings for me and my socialist leanings.
A few years later I ran into him at a party in Oakland and he still insisted that it happened. Memory's a funny thing. I wonder what he's doing now and if he still remembers it the same way.
Last 5 posts by Meme
Rock ‘N Roll High School
What, did they think you fell to Earth in a meteor and had superhuman strength?
I guess so, huh?
They are so off base. Everyone knows you’d use the recycling bin for any yippie offspring. Think globally, act locally.
guy that was tossed in the trashcan rather than the guy punched by a chick.
maybe a push sounds more palatable somehow than a punch??
i used to have this thing where i was scared of people touching my neck. i have no idea how/why/when it started. then a friend of mine told me a story about how she was walking ON the monkey bars and fell through, hitting her neck on the way down.
a few weeks later, i tried to tell her that same story as the reasoning for my neck issues. she was all, “oh? well, that’s weird…”
memory IS funny. and so is America. i wonder if he LOVES his name.
What, you mean you’re not *still* a feisty one? And that was what drew me here initially… I sensed feistyness. And a hint of vanilla fragrance.
Pauly: haven’t you ever seen my invisible plane?
Kristine: I take it back - YOU are so punk rock.
Keith: Vanilla scented stuff makes me wanna hurl.
Kids can be so mean… 7th grade was the worst for me. My once “BFF” started a lesbian rumor about me and years later after I ran into her and was overly nice to her, she confided in someone that she thought I was going to hit her because I was being too nice, it creeped her out.