“I’m looking to become the new member of Dawson’s Creek, and at least I know the Cocaine addiction won’t stop me:�
The insider’s report of the drugs, alcohol, and really soft lips of Valpo’s youth
By:Matthew

My name is indeed Matthew M., and for the past year and oddwhat days, I have been located inside of a quaint little city known only as Valparaiso (or as they call it up here, “Valpo�). It is a nice place really. The air is crisp and clear, the flowers are bright and friendly, and the streets are just the right amount of bumpy as to relocate the minds of people into their erotic never lands, even if just for a moment. The gently swaying cornstalks are speckled with the lust-worthy luminescence that the fireflies exude, and girls no more than 12 years old run about in nothing more than sports bras and towels. I would love to expand (trust me), but before this article turns into a rewrite of my up and coming best seller, “Love at the margins,� I’ll turn the focus onto something a little more corrupt and worrisome� the teens.

Teens are all around bad news in this neighborhood. Whether it’s the teens of the sole gang of Valparaiso, the Wolf Pack, known only for their motto “Leave no man alive� or the teens who think it’s funny to give me less meatballs than I deserve on my Subway foot long (that’s the only length I take it), they mean business.

Of the educated guess number of 2,000 students who attend Valparaiso High School, exactly 1,536 have dabbled in drugs or crime (1,961 if you include the faculty), and almost all of them have dropkicked a mailbox or two� even if it happens to be their own. I’ve seen it happen on Friday nights during TGIF or right before soccer practice on a perfectly sunny day. They “hit� “that� “stuff� like there’s no tomorrow. Schwagg, cannabis, marijuana, cigarettes, homework assignments, ecstasy, cough syrup, cocaine, and any other drug that I have not yet heard of or has not yet been added to the periodic table. You name it, I’ve heard the tales.

As well as this, a somewhat similarly absurd observation is how all but a select few either wear tie die proudly about once a week, or have taken up in the pink shirt fad. I, personally, am not only appalled, offended, and appalled, but I am also offended. I’m not expecting people to have iron clad, constantly updated wardrobes like mine, but come on man. Any jackass who has read my website would know that pink looks 10 times better on girls, and I am sure that with the number of hits rising on 1000 (good thing my hits count), they have all read it. And don’t bother checking my math, I’m an Eagle Scout.

And the really soft lips comment, you ask? Third paragraph, right? Well I suppose. Not much too it. Literally, it is a true statement. The girls up here seem to have really soft lips. Maybe it’s the air and the magnesium filled water, or maybe they practice kissing their dogs and cats and stuff, or maybe� it’s genetics!!! Anyways, I am sure that the girls down in Texas have equally soft lips, but I doubt it. Surrender, infidels!!! Figuratively, however, there is much more to this story than made up conjectures and pedophilic fantasies: there are sluts. I can’t go into extreme detail due to Sebastian’s disbelief in an honest piece of literature and/or the use of the word penis, but I’ll make him pay by having to change all these words!!! So there is this one girl at my school with this really nice ass and a cute face (as least the first part makes me seem manly) and she likes to talk about penises a lot. Not really talk about them I suppose, but comment about penises and boobs and schlongs and “Kimono Dragon’s� penises, and other things like blowjobs and anal. She might be a whore, but she is a pretty whore, maybe even an “item�, if that term isn’t too dusty. It would totally backfire if Sebastian didn’t change all that, because I would look kind of shallow, but I’m not. Trust me? It’s quite the sight to see though. They are like wild sex bears, all pristine and vicious, and with flowing brown hair. Sometimes I look around and ask myself why they act like that (no I don’t), and why they do such things (I encourage it), but I guess some people are just like that. Women are the only things that aren’t science� after all.

So after a year, I have only managed to take small amounts of data on this city of “Valpo,� but who really cares about people’s drug problems or lack of proper clothing styles. And when’s the last time I got a letter in my broken mail box anyways? The logical explanation for this corrupt youth is the lack of time used to pick up and smell the flowers, but maybe it isn’t that obvious. Maybe it’s deeper! I look around each day, thinking why people have to be more like Snoop Dogg, and less like Tommy, the heroic green power ranger, and have only thought of one phrase (which is deeply influenced by the book Ishmael by Daniel Quinn)

“Without Cannabis, is there hope for humans? Without humans, is there hope for Cannabis?�


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