Page 2 I was voted Most Likely To Get Published by my senior class. Every year the senior class of WLW eagerly awaits the release of the mock elections ballot. They swarm in crowds, fighting each other with karate moves they've picked up from watching Mountain Dew commercials for a chance to vote for the boy and girl with the Prettiest Hair. At night, the whole event cumulates into a choreographed song and dance number, complete with less attractive backup dancers and a real DJ to keep the music bumpin'. Mock Election Day is the most beautiful day of the year. I'm fucking with you. One day toward the end of year every student gets a voting packet that he or she will either throw away, use to apathetically cast their vote, or doodle on and then throw away. Possible titles to be won through election are usually just dumb crap like Sexiest Legs (read: "Nicest Ass"). When I was a junior the seniors were voted things like An image search at altavista.com told me that this is what writing is. If this is, in fact, what writing is, fucking kill me now. "Class Mooch" and "Most Likely to Marry for Money." However, when the ballot was out my senior year all the kids I knew who worked diligently at stealing food and marrying millionaires on national television had to turn their smiles right side up into frowns. It turns out that announcing to the world that you eat everyone else's fries at lunch or that you want to sell your body for the cash of a stranger is a bad thing, so they replaced those two awards with the much more sensitive "Ugliest Car." And that's just great. I think it's a lot better to point out that someone's car is unattractive instead of embarrassing them with cute little joke nominations. That way only the car's feelings are hurt. I witnessed the worst senior prank ever. If high school was having sex then the first three years would be the foreplay, the senior shenanigans should be the orgasm, and actually graduating would be the part where you tell the bitch to take her money and get the hell out of there. But you know the part of sex where, during the climax, you punch that hoe in the face? In my abstract little metaphor, that would be the part where the seniors normally pull a prank of some sort. A prank that says, "I love you, but I'm bruising your face anyway, you trick ass beeyotch." Unfortunately, my high school was not socked in the lip like a trifling piece of ass. And now you'll find out why. Our senior prank: An angry mob of students dressed in black at night covering the school mascot, the Ebony Muskrat, in dark tar. My high school was segregated like America circa 1940. The unpopular kids had to drink from separate drinking fountains. Sometimes they were sprayed with fire hoses for reading biology books near where the popular kids played varsity sports and received oral sex from each other. There was a separate lunch line for Mathletes. One didn't go to WLW without knowing exactly where they stood, sat, ate lunch, threw away their garbage, and then left the room to do something else. As a class, we couldn't unite. Hell, when half of the people in your class are being shot down with pressurized water for learning about mitochondria it's a little hard to organize a group large enough to burn down the library. I heard that on the last day of school an almost-prank was pulled. Early in the morning someone chained the gate to the parking lot closed. This ingenius attempt at sabotaging school for everybody was cleverly thwarted when Steve the Parking Lot Master cut the damn chain. I can't even begin to fathom the idiot who thought this was be a good senior prank. I imagine they're the type of person who will go to Denny's and say "I'd like a Coke." And then when the balding waitress comes to his table with the Coke he says, "Hey, I ordered a Sprite!" just to show how he is the supreme expert of trickery. I also imagine this a great way to guilt your waitress into accepting a lower tip. I spoke with a man hoping to be in the United States House of Representatives. Anybody attending my high school was generously given a semester in which for one class period they're allowed to sleep and sleep and sleep and then walk away with an A. Most people know this as "taking Government". Yes, before one is allowed to lead WLW they must complete one credit of Government. The difficulty level of this particular requirement is comparable to having to eat lunch every day while at the same time having to wear pants, not put things in your eyes, and keep on wearing the aforementioned pants. But is government a complete waste of learning time? Find out in the next paragraph! No. What miraculous work of educational wizardry could revive my lost faith in such a crappy class? The political hookups, that's what. My government teacher was generous enough to have a real, political-type guy come and spread propaganda to us about himself and how awesome he is. His name was John Haggerty and he wanted everyone to love politics and his hot, sexy ass. Let me break down his speech. "Hello, all of you government students. Your teacher asked me here today so I could teach you all the benefits of voting in your community. First off, voting allows youngsters such as yourself to put great men into political position. Take myself, for example. I'm running for the House of Representatives. And if you all voted for me, taxes would disappear forever. And do you like Skittles? I bet you do! If I was elected into the House of Representatives, it would rain those little suckers! Just like on the TV! I originally wanted to insert a picture of a dress and make some crack about John wearing lingerie, but after I found this picture I changed my mind. It's a dog wearing an evening gown. And this tells us one thing: They're evolving. I feel like I can relate to you kids, and that's why you should vote. Vote for me. Believe it or not, I used to be a teenager like most kids are when they're growing up. As a former teenager I can understand why you kids love scooters and pogs so much. But now I've grown up into the best candidate running for House of Representatives. So vote whenever the hell the next election is. How could you not vote for me? I'm wearing a suit! Now, I must admit that I do have a couple skeletons in my closet, as well as a few things in my past that I am not very proud of. For example, I'm having an argument with the government regarding taxes. They say that, in a recent event, I should have paid them, while think I should not. The chips said they were 99 cents, damn it! I'm not paying $1.05 because the government wants to deceive me with its surprise "Sales Tax." Also, I spent three years as a woman. At this point I'm supposed to let you ask questions in a desperate attempt to get all of you to vote for me. Any questions?" At this point he let us ask questions despite the fact that none of us was going to vote for him. This opportunity was not to be squandered by Kenny, the class stoner and the guy everybody counted on to say what is often required to completely ruin a discussion about abortion, women's rights, or, in this case, voting. Kenny: How do you feel about pot? House of Reps Hopeful John Haggerty: You mean marijuana? Kenny: Sure? John "Nobody's Ever Heard of Me" Haggerty: Marijuana for medical purposes? Kenny: No, for a good time. Former Woman John Haggerty: You know, this reminds me of a boring story I tell kids who ask questions that confuse me. And then that son of a bitch John "Can't Orate For Shit But I Sure Can Wear a Suit" Haggerty launched into a tale he probably heard on the History Channel. I shit you not, folks. This is all based on a real lecture he decided to punish us with for going to school. "You know, the ancient Greeks developed a civilization advanced far beyond their years. Then they named their great country Greece, because they were Greeks and that seemed to be the right thing to do. After a couple of weeks they had discovered lead piping and they immediately installed it everyone's house. Over the years people began dying. You know what was killing them? Lead, which is a main ingredient when making lead pipes. Only the Greeks didn't know that because they were from the past. And then one day the Greeks were extinct. Imagine if we legalized marijuana. People would smoke it! And if it was like lead piping it would kill everyone! And that is why I'm against lead pi-...er...marijuana." After he concluded that profound little rant about plumbing in Ancient Greece, he stared at everyone in the room again, this time expecting all of us to be deeply moved by whatever the hell that just was. And then my friend Steve raised his hand. Steve: What does that have to do with marijuana? That made no sense. Disco Queen John Haggerty: Let me ask you one question, little boy. If all of your friends jumped off a bridge, would you? Now really think about that. It's just like marijuana. If that was any more like marijuana you'd be high right now, you little junkie. Steve: I still have no idea wh- Mentally Handicapable John Haggerty: Lead piping, my little voting friend. Steve: Wha- Recess Lady John Haggerty: Hush, little one. Your classmates have questions for me. This may not be the real John Haggerty, but he looked equally stupid. And look at that tie! Does that say "credibility" or what? Then came thirty seconds of awkward silence. But it's not like every time this man stopped talking it was to treat us all with soundless hell. There were three occasions when he would abruptly stop his speeches about bridge suicide and toking up to talk to me. I shit you not, folks. He looked right at my face and he directed words of pure wisdom and intelligence to my eager ears. Here, let me summarize them in a format I'm sure you're all sick of by now. John Haggerty: ...and that's why I had my penis removed and replaced with a vacuum clea-... Excuse me, son, were you sleeping? Me: I'm wide awake. How could you not see that? John Haggerty: Yeah, right, Mr. Sleep Talker. Vote for me! When I listen to people that are trying to teach me stuff I tend to make eye contact with them and nod occasionally. And apparently this idiot thought that "Nodding your head" = "Sleeping". And it's not like this only happened once. Two more times would this windbag tell me that I'm not awake. John Haggerty: ...so then I punched that hooker right in the face and told her to rub my nipp-... Are you sleeping again? Me: No, guy. And why exactly are you singling me out? That kid's sleeping over there. (Points at one of the many sleeping kids) John Haggerty: A likely story, Sleeper Man! You'd think this man would stop after ruining his own speeches with a Harass the Random Kid Intermission not once but twice. But of course not. This man can do anything because he thinks people will vote for him. Hell, he has a stance on taxes. How controversial! And get this: he said that he doesn't like them. Who could disagree with that? And let's not take into account the fact that when a student asked him about his opinion on gay marriages he said, "Well, yes and no. Maybe. That depends on what you want, Mr. Voter!" with a wink and a tip of his imaginary hat. Here's encounter number three. John Haggerty: And that is why I'd much rather shoplift pornogra-... Am I really that boring? Wake up, sleepyhead! Me: Yes, you are. And oops, you got me. I am totally sleeping. I am sleeptalking right now as I am talking in my sleep. John Haggerty: I got you, sucka! Vote for me! If any of you reading this are over 18 and you know what voting is, do not vote for this man. Ever. If elected, he would promise to totally fuck up everything he could and stop important government meetings by nudging some dude in the Supreme Court and saying, "Rise and shine, Mr. Lazybones! You must have been smoking the lead piping on a bridge!" I was put in the school newspaper for writing gooder than most people. My high school had a successful, widely-read newspaper. But that's only if "successful" means "undercirculated", "widely-read" means "ignored", and "newspaper" means "any of several swift, wild, horselike African mammals having distinctive overall markings of alternating white and black or brown stripes." Did I mention my high school newspaper was really a poorly-maintained zebra? But as much as I'd like to make hilarious jokes about publications secretly being striped horse thingys, I must move on to tell you about my old school newspaper. It sort of sucked. For example, sometimes people would forget to include entire headlines. Sentences from an article entitled "What George Washington's Birthday Means to Me" would somehow end up inserted in the horoscope section. Once an entire issue was accidentally printed on balsa wood. Don't believe me? Check this out. I dare you. What the fuck is that? Look how shitty that is. Just...wow. How the fuck could someone let that run? Jesus, that's terrible. Fuck, man! Holy fucking dick snake, people. That's...wow. Fucking hell. I love this newspaper. Only in a public high school could students publish something that features large, glaring errors without so much as giving three fourths of a shit. Come on, who still spells "fashion" that way? And is it just me or does that teal dress look a little bit dark? Nice try, Carly, but your dress just isn't pretty! And I bet her friends Brent and Lindsay were part of our senior prank, seeing as they're dressed in black at night like a couple of dirty goths. What an awesome publication. Anyway, for one reason or another, the writing staff thought I'd change the world one day. So Chris, the Editor in Chief and Caterer told me to write up a description for myself so they could abridge the fuck out of it and make me look like an ass. Here's what I submitted: All four years of my high school career I didn't live up to my full potential and I have loved every second of it. My freshman and sophomore years were shamefully spent in marching band. Although it's seen as "uncool" to admit it, marching band was actually fun. Contrary to most stereotypes, marching band kids don't watch Star Trek reruns and swap retainers with each other. They swear and break stuff, too, so cut them a break. As a hobby, I write. I don't write poetry and I don't write in a flowery pink journal. I have quite possibly the biggest website ever assembled by a Walled Lake Western student. Its address is (Here is where you make a decision, Chris. If you're allowed to post it, put "www.mindlessnothing.com" and if you can't say "not allowed to be published here because my site is lewd, obscene, and better than any AOL homepage about dressing up dogs in funny costumes"). One day I hope to build an empire from that website and become rich enough to buy monkey butlers and flying cars. High school has been a lot like a roller coaster ride. It's had its ups, it's had its downs, but now that I'm at the end of it I just want to vomit. I've had to put up with a lot of crap here at Walled Lake Western. I could deal with my peers, my homework, and my teachers, but for some reason my junior year was my year to get metaphorically raped by the administration. For example, my locker was moved to the back of D hall after a friend of mine said something sarcastic to a teacher. Let me repeat that. My locker was moved because somebody else used his freedom of speech. If that punishment was any more retarded it would have earned a gold medal in the Special Olympics for throwing a foam football through a big hoop. After I graduation from good ol' Westernn I'll be attending the University of Michigan to attend something in writing. Unfortunately, most writers are paid with animal crackers and hugs, so I may have to take up a more lucrative profession, such as kidnapping. So whether I'm writing novels or ransom notes, I hope to make an impact in the world. I'd like to thank all the English teachers I've ever had for teaching me the basics of writing. My actual writing style is the result of being warped by pop culture and experimentation with mild narcotics. Just kidding, I'm not exposed to pop culture. My Amish religion forbids it. (If for some reason that last paragraph was too retarded, here's alternative material) I'd like to thank all the English teachers I've ever had for teaching me the basics of writing. It was their instruction along with my numerous birth defects that led to me winning Most Likely to Get Published in the senior mock elections that mean precisely nothing. In closing, I'd like thank my friends because they're better than sitting alone at lunch and my family because without them I would have never been born. Now let me show you what they did with all of that content. Am I a sex machine or what? The correct answer is an emphatic "Yes, you are!" I like to think of myself as a toaster that can fuck you. Ehhh...it could have been worse, right? I did some other stuff. Yes, it's true. I did things other than chat with guys in suits about how awake I may or may not be, but who really wants to hear about the time I saved a dozen burning babies from a crying building, right? And would anybody sit down and listen to the time I fought a dead moose to the life? And I already know for sure nobody wants to hear about battle my dyslexia with. Aside from doing the aforementioned things, I got into the University of Michigan, where I am now. So ladies, I'm officially a college man now. Dump your high school boyfriend and date me because gosh damn it, I'm older than they are. And now that I've sounded desperate for lovin' yet again, I'm allowed to end yet another disappointing addition to the About Me section of this website, which I also created during high school. Back to the Me Page