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Menstrual Mondays – The Rapture(TM) has unfortunately been delayed to 2012

Hands up who’s been to a high-school reunion?

Anyone else?

I’ll be honest and I’m one of these people that looks forward to them – always kinda considered it like the coming Rapture(TM), where I could return to the old stomping ground, confuse and startle the plebs I went to school with, remind all my teachers why I was “difficult to teach”, reconfirm that I’d still fail my religious education exam if I did it again today (I had to visit the vice-principal over that one: apparently my religious ed teacher didn’t appreciate my sense of humor), and generally cause total havoc for the good christian school I terrorised for 5 years.

Fortunately for me I still have another four years to plan my shenanigans and outright lies, but last night I got a chance to trial-run some of the obscene behaviour I have in store, because last night my old school celebrated “10 years of existence”. No, they couldn’t wait till their first year group (mine) had their 10 year reunion in 2012 – they wanted to celebrate the fact that none of their current or former students had bombed the school in the 10 years since it opened.


Being part of the “Pioneer year”, it was inevitable that there would be a bunch of my old teachers waxing lyrically on about the good old days when the school opened in ’98 – back when the place was covered in sand and the “playground” was the local bush. Unfortunately they failed to mention how having only bushland to play in eventually lead to a full blown re-enactment of “Lord of the Flies” (I played the role of Roger)

“Would….. would you … punch my dick again…. please Jack?”
“Sure Piggy”

We built cubby-house fortresses out of the trees we cut down, covered our wooden citadels in nature’s barbed wire, and then built weapons like it was some kind of lumberjack Cold War – a cold war that one morning turned very hot after someone dropped a smoke bomb into a cubby and it burnt to the ground. Ahh the memories: I built my first crossbow during the Cubby Wars, and narrowly avoided turning out like Butters when a steel fan blade was thrown at my head.

One much loved story that was brought up though was how I blackmailed the head boy into breaking into a teacher’s classroom after school, abducted a soft-toy teletubby, held it ransom for a week, then blew it up and sent the pieces back to the teacher in a little box with this video:

Sad to say no one has done anything even closely comparable at the school ever since. Actually the entire affair last night was pretty sad in general – there were probably 30 people there, half of them were teachers from the school, and no one got to see my bad ass mid-80′s Commodore station wagon turned into “Ecto 1″ car from Ghostbusters.

The New “Ecto-1″ – seriously, this is what I’m driving at the moment

How many of you can say they turned up to a school reunion in a dilapidated 4-speed with flashing lights, rad “Ghostbusters” logo on the bonnet, and a siren strapped to the driver’s door that blasts out Ray Parker Jr’s Ghostbusters theme song? Ha? ANSWER ME! About the best I got out of anyone was when we were leaving and some mole snorted “Oh my god, is that your car?” – No I decided to break into and steal someone else’s ridiculous wannabe-movie prop for shits and giggles, dumbass.
Telling everyone I trained sea lions for a living was a night highlight too – I thought about going Martin Blank-style, telling people I’m a professional killer, but they’d probably believe it. At the end of it all though the whole reunion thing felt exactly like high school all over again (except everyone was wider) : most of the teachers tried to avoid eye-contact with me, people from my year were simply older versions of high school, there was always this random silent dude hanging around like he was lost (and just like in school we called him Pedro), and I paid $30 for an hour and a half of cold fingerfood and socially awkward company.

Bring on the proper 10-year reunion baby, cause after last night’s effort I’ll have to burn down the whole school before starts getting exciting.

2012 – The year one baptist school learns to love
the smell of napalm in the morning

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