Mailbag: High School Kid Hates GDI Classmates, Turns To Alcohol

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Nice Move

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The Mailbag‘s long overdue hiatus has come to an end, and we’re coming out swinging with a disgruntled high schooler who has a developing penchant for daytime boozing because of his NF classmates. We’ve all heard this story before, haven’t we? Be honest; how many kids do you remember from high school who would fade into drunken seclusion because too many American Eagle-clad nerds in your grade didn’t know how to properly frat? It’s a longstanding issue that’s been plaguing public schools in the ‘burbs, and it needs to end.

I relish the opportunity to attempt to squash this trend. Thanks to an emailer who brought his problem to the forefront, I now have my platform.

Here’s the email:

Dear Dorn,

I am a junior at a small town high school in Oklahoma. I am the only kid in our school that even knows what a goddamn fraternity even is. People are clueless in this town. I’m referred to as the biggest asshole womanizing prick that has ever graced these halls. I’ve started day drinking to pass the time. I was gonna see if you had any pointers on ways to keep this shithole we call school at least worth going to. Thanks and Fuck you.

Sincerely, The High School Badass

P.S. you’re my fucking hero.

“Thanks and Fuck you.”

You talk to all your heroes like that, kid? What the hell’s the matter with you? Were you day drunk when you wrote this? Did you just have a run-in with a GDI in the school restroom that made you sour? Tap the brakes, High School Badass.

Secondly, I’d like to address this line:

“I’m referred to as the biggest asshole womanizing prick that has ever graced these halls.”

No you’re not. Shut up.

“I’ve started day drinking to pass the time.”

Now, this is something I can totally understand. How else would one cope with such egregious pre-college, NF behavior? Think about it. You’re sitting there in 3rd period chemistry class, listening to Teach drone on about covalent bonds or some stupid crap that you’ll never need to know about in the real world, when she informs the class that everyone is to partner up with the classmate next to them to conduct some NF experiment that you don’t care about because it has nothing to do with the frat life. And since everyone’s seated alphabetically (like the Communists probably do it), you’re partnered up with Scott Ackerman, some dweeb from the soccer team who wears Toms and skinny jeans.

You just can’t do it. You hate Scott Ackerman’s fucking guts. You wouldn’t let Scott funnel one of your ‘Stones if it would save his pathetic life. His sister’s hot, though, and a year younger, so you figure you’ll put on the nice guy act in hopes that Scott will drop your name in front of her in a positive light. You need a little mind-number to get you through the remaining 40 NF minutes of class without punching Scott Ackerman in his stupid little face. You reach down into your Jansport and pull out the flask that you filled with Dad’s Knob Creek on your way out the door before catching the bus, where you were surrounded by nothing but GDI high school losers.

Scott Ackerman: “Hey, High School Badass. Can you grab the Bunsen burner? We need it for the experiment.”

High School Badass: “Sure thing, Scott.”

*takes pull from flask*

Scott Ackerman: “I really love these activities. Sure beats textbook stuff. Don’t you agree?”

High School Badass: “Yeah.”

*takes pull from flask*

Scott Ackerman: “Are you drinking?”

High School Badass: “No, why you say that?”

Scott Ackerman: “Dude, it’s 11:30 in the morning. And we’re in school.”

High School Badass: “Want a pull?”

Scott Ackerman: “Um, no. I’m 16 years old. So are you!”

High School Badass: “What’s your point?”

Scott Ackerman: “Well, besides the fact that it’s illegal, it’s a pretty big sign of alcoholism to be drinking so early, and at such a young age.”

High School Badass: “Oh my God. I really want to punch your fucking face, Scott Ackerman.”

Shotgunning beers on the track, sneaking shots under the bleachers, sipping airplane bottles in the back row of English class — it all works, and it all helps soothe the insurmountable pain of high-schooling with GDIs.

“I was gonna see if you had any pointers on ways to keep this shithole we call school at least worth going to.”

I have none. There’s no hope for your school. Just come in real, real hot when you finally set foot on a college campus.

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