Drool if you want to

If there's one thing I hate it's douche bag boys. In my 34 years I've encountered many a douche bag, but non as douchey as, oh...I can't remember his name...we'll call him Massen...Gil. In 1991 when I was a Jr. in high school ol' Massen was one of those "pretty boys". You remember those dudes, with their Vanilla Ice hair cuts, turtlenecks under their oversized Cosby sweaters listening to the latest song by Color Me Bad. He thought his shit didn't stink. To prove my point further, mommy and daddy bought pretty boy Massen a brand new Mustang GT convertible. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad; it was the vanity license plate that sealed ol' Massen's fate. It said something to the effect of...

Really? WTF! Thinking about that again made me throw up in my mouth a little. So anyway, this douche just irritated the crap outta me and my girlfriends. I'm not sure whether or not he did anything to us in particular, it was just his very being that pissed us off.

Here's the part that as a grown mother of three I probably shouldn't be bragging about, but it's central this story. Shortly after school ended the summer of my jr. year, a couple of my girlfriends and I were sitting at my house looking at our yearbook. We were doing what normal high school girls do - "ooo he's cute", "he's a geek", "it's so trippy how much like Jesus that dude looks like", "I hate that skank", well you get the drift. When we got to young Massen Gil's picture I said, "Lord I'd love to egg the shit out of his dumb ass car!" The three of us all looked at eachother and three light bulbs went off over our heads. I'd love to say we spent the evening merely fantasizing about going to the grocery store, purchasing god knows how many dozens of eggs and egging the crap outta that convertible Mustang GT, but alas kids that would be a lie. Well...my girlfriends did, that is. The ones I threw just bounced on the stupid-ass white leather seats and just sat there...unbroken. I'm telling you, shit like that happens to me ALL THE TIME!