Okay, This one comes from The Reluctant Housewife, a cool new (for me) blog that I'm soaking up. The Challenge? To post something dreadful that you wrote in your formative years. Well, for most of us (I really should stick to speaking for myself, but...) that means SOMETHING that we wrote in our formative years. I know that somewhere hidden is a diary that I wrote at 13, which would be EVER so much more juicy than this stuff, but this stuff is awful enough. This stuff comes from a notebook we were required to keep for creative writing in my senior year of high school. I should also add that this challenge is based on a live show called Mortified, based on this website, which I present for your viewing amusement. See you next year in real life, because you'll be holed up for days reading this shit.
Basically, we were supposed to keep a sort of stream of consciousness journal, which we would then use to come up with stories and essays. Pretty standard Creative Writing Stuff. The first one I actually used to write a story, which I will have to unearth somewhere here. I don't know where the shit about Leonard Nimoy came from, but I did used to smoke a lot of pot when I was writing, so that would explain a lot.
The next two pages are based on an actual conversation that I had with a boyfriend. Obviously, I was all about the control in my relationships back then. (Yes, only back then, of course) and I fancied myself not only an atheist, but a socialist. OOooOo. The only thing I was missing was the beret and the machine gun to be a total Patricia Hearst clone. Oh shit. I just realized, probably half of you aren't going to know who Patricia Hearst is. Le Sigh.
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