I actually joined the year book committee one year so I could ensure that my friends and I would actually be included in the yearbook. I quit after a week when I realized none of my friends wanted to be caught dead in it.
I had a pretty strange assortment of friends in high school. The other stoners, of course, but I had one friend that no one could figure out.Her name was Brenda and she was a native. (back then they were called natives or Indians) And she was a big girl, some considered her scary. Not someone you wanted to get into a scrap with. She and I hit it off right away. She called me Squaw and I called her...well?...Brenda. (I did mention she was scary, right?)
Brenda might have been scary, but she had a twinkle in her eye and a ghoulish sense of humor. She would walk into the cafeteria (and all eyes would be on her) and walk up to the whitest, skinniest, blond chick. Clamp her hand down on said white chicks shoulder and in a sinister growl would say, "You and me bitch, outside! NOW!" and walk out.
As soon as she hit the door she would be pissing herself laughing. The look on the chicks face was priceless and if we had caught even a glimpse of her in the next month it would be a miracle.
She honestly would never had laid a hand on the girl, but she got such a kick out of making them all think that she would.
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