My dad was a high school guidance counselor and convinced that all kids lose their virginities and die in drunk driving car accidents on prom night. I had to choose between going home after the actual dance or going to the uber-lame PTA sponsored "lock in" at the school with all the weird Young Life kids. The highlight was sumo wrestling in those great big padded suits. Ahh, the memories. Thanks Dad!
At my friend's large property out in the boonies (Galesburg Michigan). Kids arrived, parents took our keys. Kegs and bonfires. We all set up tents. My friend got a chance to beat up the high school bully (who was a year ahead of us) and he left crying (the bully, not the friend). We grilled our friend's dad about what it was like to follow a Floyd tour in the 70's. The marker incident I mentioned yesterday. Okay, now you got me sad. Thanks
it was a lame sleepover at my brother's date's house. we snuck in a few beers and watched office space.in other words: lame as shit
School-sponsored. My date's parents insisted that we go to the official "after-prom" at the goddamn bowling alley.
wholesome and lame. My mom would not allow me to sleep over anywhere and made me come home after the prom. I was not attracted to my date whatsoever and reluctantly allowed him to give me what can only be described as a grandmotherly kiss. Then we went to Six Flags Great America in Gurnee, Ill. the next day.
2 days. 5 kegs. Lakehouse in NH.
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