80s Adolescent Angst: GroSSSSSS! new rulz, mis amigos

Why blog the 80s?

Due to not-so-popular yet compelling demand, I'm blogging my high school diary entries from the late eighties and early nineties.

You are more likely to enjoy this blog if:
- You were born between 1970 and 1976.
- You thought George Michael would fall in love with you if he only got to know you.
- Your Aquanet consumption easily exceeded one fushia aerosol can per month.
- You penned at least one angsty poem per week about your latest crush.
- You assiduously nursed all legitimate bouts of melancholia into sustained periods of truly impressive despair. When you consulted your journals weeks after writing about each episode, you moved yourself to tears.

ok, YUCKO! Thanks for all the submissions to the POETRY CONTEST, but I have something very DEEP and POYGnant and IMPORTANT to say.

Stop it with the nasty poems. I said ANGSTY poems, not NASTY. Nasty is anything that mentions s.e.x or anything to do with s.e.x ESPECIALLY totally GROSS diseases unless you consider kissing and ncmo stuff to be something like s.e.x. It's ok to share poems about kissing, and spirits flying across the sky and sad songs. Plus hearts and unicorns. I haven't even kissed anyone for real yet and NO ONE has kissed my collar bones yet so don't ruin it for me by using fowl language and writing about GROSS stuff. I MEAN IT.

okay?!!

((Go ahead, call me a prude. It's not like I care. (Actually, I'll cry for days over how cruel and mean the world is when I'm just trying to be GOOD and RIGHTEOUS and then I'll even consider praying about it but I'll listen to a John BTW tape instead).)