Keepin' a low profile

There are people from my past out to get me. People that I have not seen for years, but who has tracked me down, people who has wronged me, and will again. That's right, school reunion. I am stuck in my house, so I can neither run, nor hide. Someone even had the gall the send a letter, asking if they could hold it in my house, since I cannot leave. Apparently, as it turns out now, I was quite popular, in school, despite me hating my classmates and everything they stood for. Well, actually they didn't stand for anything. Well, actually I once saw Janet Ravenburgh and Hank Obermeyer stand for nearly two minutes straight. They were having sex up a wall. Weirdest dang prom I ever saw. They made king and queen too.

We threw a burning chair out on the porch. It appears to keep the reunioners at a distance. All the doors and windows have been barricaded, but they are still outside. We have been communicating with Ashley using large cards, from the roof, but according to her, she looked out the window, and 17 guys immediately came over to hit on her. I hid Julia, who, by the way, has been forced to wear a T-shirt saying "I will never again write in someone elses blog, however good my intentions might have been", in the basement. For her own good. She didn't really understand why, but that is because she doesn't know these people like I know them. Or, knew them. Whatever.

I tried the classic method, of yelling "Hey, you kids get of my lawn", but, alas, years of old men screaming this has desensitized them to the point of them hardly reacting, beyond a call for beer. I tried rapping, since the most pathetic thing ever is white people rapping, but it must have become popular sometime after I stopped paying attention to the modern music scene, in the mid-nineties. Have they forgotten the lesson of Vanilla Ice? Well, yeah, who remembers Vanilla Ice?

Anyway, I remember from my school days, that if you do not stop your classmates from waiting to party, they could be waiting for months. Vince Skankbone and Terry Gollyhop had to repeat the ninth grade after waiting three months for a party, outside a random house. Turned out that the owner was 83 years old. Boy, did Vince and Terry get drunk at that wake. Anyway, I needed to cut them off at the root. Luckily, Denby came by, and he is an instant party killer. Really quite facinating. It is like Moses parting the sea. Only, if Moses was a short, weaselly guy and the sea was a bunch of twenty-something slackers running for their cars, since no one cool most be seen in the same place as Denby unless they are A: Physically hurting him or B: Making fun of him. Those are the rules and so shall it be.