As it turns out, we do need this hateration

Sorry for not posting yesterday. I spent the day flitting from graduation party to graduation party like some sort of socially transmitted disease. I didn't have a lot of fun at the parties, but rather stuck around afterwards and hung out. I do better in small groups, about six or less. Any more than that, and I tend to become subdued.

But! I did become schooled in the brilliant game known as hateball. (In honor of Harry Potter, all positive adjectives have become irrelevant and have been replaced with brilliant.)

Hateball is a game where everyone stands around in a bunch. The person with the ball lists something they hate, and then whips the ball to someone else, and they they list something they hate.

Objects of hateration included:

fat boys with lisps
Mrs. Voight's mullet
my favorite tv show was preempted for crappy Reagan-ness
I had to give a handjob to somebody for gas money
Shelley is really pretty but she's a bitch
your mother
people who own the tshirt that says 2QT2BSTR8
elevator music
fat girls wearing tank tops and low rise jeans
bigots who pronounce the R in (the n-word)
'Wicked' didn't win best Musical
we're out of salsa

You get the idea. Also, we went through the various yearbooks and honed our gaydar. Our sirens got quite the workout, let me tell you.

Also, I believe that this guy has developed a crush on me. I am amused.