Tag Archives: high school

The underwear who lived.

I know I’ve said before that people should always have nice, new underwear, and I’ve maybe criticized Adrian for owning some holey stuff.

(Adrian’s sock)

I have a confession. I’ve owned a black pair (why is it a pair?) of Calvin Klein underwear since I was 16. I know. But I just couldn’t get rid of them! They’ve been with me through high school, college, and real-life adulthood.

I couldn’t get rid of them because they were my first pair of underwear that didn’t come out of a package, and that was big news. They were cool. I imagined all the cool kids at school had awesome, non-packaged underwear, and then I did too! Sure they couldn’t see the Calvin Kleins, but if I wore a short shirt and leaned forward in my desk chair they may have seen the band indicating that these were, in fact, “designer” underwear.

After exactly 10 years, they are gone. The elastic blew out long ago, but gaining a bit of weight held them up and solved that problem. When the hole appeared in the unmentionable area today it was too much. I kinda want to bury them or hold some kind of memorial. You can’t keep something with you for 10 solid years and then just trash it.

I won’t show you a picture of said underwear because that would be disgusting and some sort of line will have been crossed. Why is it fair that I can show the world Adrian’s holey clothing? Well, if he wants to air my dirty laundry he needs to get a blog. But for now, this is my blog and I’ll publicize myself exactly how I like.

Here, watch this clip of Tobias from Arrested Development because it’s hilarious. I did the sad walk out of the bathroom after I realized my underwear died.


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How to Stuff Your Bra

*Warning: this post contains scenes and words that older people might find to be of an obscene nature. Proceed with caution. Dad, probably don’t read this.

You know how when you’re walking down the street and you see a girl with large breasts you might think, “Wow, that girl’s got some serious melons”?

Well, I don’t have melons. I have apples. I grew mosquito bites around age ten, then at age 13 they grew into apples. In a teen magazine Jennifer Love Hewitt told me they would grow later in my teen years, just like hers did! Jennifer Love Hewitt is a lying jerk with big melons.


In seventh grade lots of girls had boobs that were already close to melon status. At 13! This caused lots of guys to look at me and girls like me and continually comment: “You’re really flat.”

Thanks. Die.

Even though I knew these guys were just mean, I decided I needed to grow boobs. Stat. As I saw it, I was a flat-chested, hairy-armed monster (yeah, I used to get a lot of “your arms are SO hairy” comments, too).

Breast implants were out of the question due to the fact that I was 13. What did that leave me with? Toilet Paper.

I was smart, though. I didn’t want lumpy, fluffy boobs, so I created two reusable boob shapes out of carefully layered toilet paper. I called them “my porkchops.”

I had to do this for about a year, until I noticed they sold padded bras at Target so I got one and never looked back. Then I grew some confidence and realized if a guy doesn’t like me because of my apples, why am I dating him?

I guess my advice to young teenage girls who look like boys would be: Don’t worry. Your boobs will never be bigger than a Golden Delicious, but past high school it won’t matter. In your adult life you’ll actually be glad to have a pair of apples because all the girls with melons will suffer from droopiness and hurty backs!

Live long and prosper.


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How *not* to break up with someone

Dear High School Self,

If you really must break up with someone by e-mail, you should probably ensure he is not on vacation in a place where he doesn’t have internet access and likely won’t read it for a few days.

When he comes back to school Monday and acts like nothing is wrong, rather than thinking, “Wow, he is taking this so well. He’s so mature,” assume instead he has not read the e-mail and is going to be really mad when he reads it two days later and finds out everyone but him knew he was dumped.

Better yet, don’t dump anyone over e-mail. Or text. Boys don’t like to date girls for almost two years and then receive a Dear John text.

Don’t be a jerk.

Yours truly,

Future Self


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