The High School Experience

This is the first blog post I will ever write at a different school than White Hill. As you may or may not know, I have officially become a Freshman at Drake High, meaning that I am once again the armpit of school hierarchy. Fortunately, seeing as I am 6'2", it's the Juniors that will be looking up to ME, not the other way around.

The teacher peeps are okay (I guess), seeing as none of them meet any of my criteria for SIGNS THAT YOUR HIGH SCHOOL WILL SUCK. Which brings me to the main topic of my first post-middle school blog post:

---SIGNS THAT YOUR FRESHMAN YEAR IS GOING TO STINK---

A Manifesto

• The English teacher's parrot constantly yells 'Awk! Stop beating me! Awk!'

• The wood shop teacher has a prosthetic limb.

• Your guidance counselor interrupts your first meeting with a call from his mother-- and there's a lot of swearing.

• You catch the security guard taking a nap behind the cafeteria.

• The music teacher plays online solitaire the whole class.

• A crew from National Geographic is videotaping a new life form that has mutated in the school's pool.

• You can't get near the trashcans, seeing as the raccoons are particularly aggressive.

• Your World History teacher is comatose.

• Your core teacher has a hand puppet that he refers to as 'Mister Hat'.

• All the school's garden is growing is one weird-looking cabbage.

• The History teacher goes into great detail about the Nazis bombing Pearl Harbor.

• You can hear Barry Manilow blasting from the principal's office from across the campus.

• PE isn't so much Physical Education as it is yoga with skin grafts.

• Your teacher introduces himself (along with all his multiple personalities, including Tanya the double-D pole dancer, Osama bin Laden, and Bob Dole).

Anyway, seeing as they have met my incredibly low standards, I have to give the teachers this year at least a fighting chance. Which is a much bigger consideration than some I've had in the past.

Bye!