All boys are weird, but some are weirder than others

I found this incredibly  profound
statement on Google Images.
My life now has meaning.

Once upon a time there was a girl who had some awesome friends--and some slightly less awesome possums, but that's another story. This girl, unfortunately, went to school with a lot of teenage boys. "What could be so unfortunate," you say, "about going to school with a lot of teenage boys? I thought you liked boys, ReallyShawn."
To this I answer, "Nay, I like MEN. And since there are no MEN at my school, only teenage boys, it is indeed unfortunate." And to this you say, "Why are you talking so strangely, ReallyShawn?" and for that I have no answer. 
Moving on...

Ooh, and here it is
with a picture!

So in order to make snide remarks about these unfortunate teenage boys, the girl (that's me...in case you hadn't figured it out yet, I'm the girl...) and her awesome friends made up a nickname for each boy. That is, only the boys who mattered... Some of these nicknames were really random, like "Bud", "Presley" or "Gem". Others, like "Ella" or "Handsome Devils numbers 1 and 2" had to do with inside jokes dating back to at least the beginning of 10th grade. And finally, there were the nicknames that had to do with the unfortunate ones themselves--names like "Old man shoes" or "Stinky" that related specifically to their odd senses of style or the amount of cologne they bathed in (yeah, someone really needs to teach them the 'mist and walk through' technique).


And then writing in this odd, past tense-ish style became too difficult for the girl, and she decided to just tell you the rest of the story in a slightly more normal fashion...


So we give nicknames to any guys that we need to talk about without them, or the eighth grade girls that worship them, knowing about it. It's not that we particularly care if they know that we don't think they're quite all that and a bag of chips, it's just that everything's more fun in code. It makes us feel dangerous. *cue Mission Impossible theme*


One of our favorite things to do is go stink-eye hunting. Do you know what a stink-eye is? If not, you have lived a very sad life until now. The stink-eye, not to be confused with the smoldering love-look, is the perfect blend of glare and eye-roll, and is best delivered pointedly and with a subtle snort of disgust. 

It is our strong belief that it is precisely because we don't worship the ground that certain boys walk on, unlike...others, that we are so good at getting stink-eyes. It's the most fun to pass someone when they are having a conversation with one of their friends and they (1) stop, (2) give you a fantastic stink-eye as you walk by, and then (3) go right back to their conversation like it was totally normal to optically send death wishes your way.


Well, I'm done rambling (for now). Thanks, as always, for reading and THANK YOU, my dear Kaylla, for the shout-out on your blog.  It made me feel special.


And no, I don't actually have any possums.