Proof you can *almost* die of embarrassment. #behindtheselaughingeyes
There’s nothing quite like cleaning out your attic and stumbling on your former self: an earnest, boy-crazy teenager who couldn’t get a date to the junior prom. (True and, no, I’M NOT OVER IT.)
Anyway, here are some of the gems I discovered, including a mortifying poem I wrote during some sort of fit of sadness, while I probably listened to Tiffany or Debbie Gibson.
File under: An age I never want to revisit.
Watch Lung Boy’s dramatic reading of said poem (and me cringing the entire time) here:
Or listen here:
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