I really thought that cancelling school because of a pandemic was going to be the greatest thing ever. Then I realized that I was going to be stuck at home with my stupid big brother and his odious girlfriend, who’s legal birthname is Slutty McHobag. She is always ruffling up my hair and asking me why I don’t have a girlfriend and saying how cute I am in her screeching voice, which sounds like nails on a chalkboard if nails on a chalkboard sound like this: “EEEEEEAAAAAAEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE SUCH A LITTLE CUTIE!!!! EEEEEEAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” I don’t need to be reminded that I don’t have a girlfriend, because my dad, with his keen understanding of the teenage mind will say, “Son, you don’t have a girlfriend. If it’s because you’re gay, I will understand.” The fact that he says this with a very pained expression on his face, like someone just dragged their fingernails on a chalkboard (this is my very favorite simile by the way) kind of makes me doubt his sincerity. It seems that many interested parties (my dad, Slutty McHobag) would feel a lot better if I just brought home a hooker and said, “Here she is! This is my girlfriend!” and then, after my dad and my brother’s girlfriend have their concerns put to rest, I would take that hooker to my bedroom and then after we get naked and I’ve stared at her boobs, we would totally do it. Awesome.

Back in the good old days of attending grade 10, before the global pandemic hit and everyone in the world died (I’m writing this during the pandemic so I’m assuming that everyone will soon be dead) my mom would make my lunch for me. I know, that sounds really lame, but my mom makes killer sandwiches. Plus, she always adds some cookies or some other snack. Like one time, it was a full week of Nanaimo Bars. I don’t think we take the time to appreciate the little things in life, like good sandwiches and desserts so whenever you come across them, you should do just that. ANYWAY, once in a while, she will sneak in a little note, to remind me that she loves me. Which all moms should really do more of. Take note, all you mothers out there! One lunch period, I was just about to dig into my second Oreo when all of a sudden Derek, the oh so amazing football player who has all the charm and grace of a walking intestine, reaches over to steal one of my cookies, which is bad enough, but unfortunately he also grabbed the post-it note tucked underneath it that read, “I love you.” He ate the cookie (without even breaking it apart and licking the icing, because he’s a complete Neanderthal), saw the note and I’m guessing he managed to read it after sounding out the big words and taking his time like I’m sure his overpriced Remedial English tutor instructed him, said in a very loud and mocking voice, “I love you! His note says, “I love you!”” I could feel my ears burn, my cheeks turn red and my face felt super hot. I managed to squeak out, “It’s my girlfriend! My girlfriend wrote me that!” Of course, on the other side of the post-it note it was signed, “Mom.” I love the sandwiches and the desserts, but I could live without everyone in school constantly telling me that I am having unnatural relations with my mother.

Since I have my finger on the pulse of Pop Culture, I am always right on top of all the new trends. Like, when the super cool dance move “The Floss” hit the streets, I was there, banging my elbow into my hip, trying to figure out how to do it. But bruises aside, there are safer ways to stay on top of the trends. For instance, when creating an avatar, always remember to make that avatar better looking and maybe taller than you are in real life. And no acne. And if you have a dumb looking cowlick that never goes down no matter how much hair product you slather onto it, don’t include that feature into your avatar. Also, when people are taking about their avatar, don’t assume that they are talking about the movie “Avatar” which would be totally understandable and forgivable since it’s the exact same word! Not that it happened to me, because whenever I interject myself into other people’s conversations, I always try to know exactly what they were talking about and never speak out of context. Like that time Susan, the Goddess in grade 11, who one day will be mine because we are destined to be together because she’s so hot, was overheard (by me) telling her friends that she loves mutant turtles and someone (me) barged into the conversation by enthusiastically agreeing with her and began to regale them with how much I love the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, both the animated series and the movies. How was I to know that Susan, aside from being gorgeous, also happened to be a pet turtle owner who was born with a specific birth defect (not Susan, the turtle - a fifth leg, if you can believe that!). In short, a “mutant turtle”. Yes, it is possible to be in love with a chick who can dole out atomic wedgies.