So as most of you may know, this is shortened week for most Americans so we can all solemnly commemorate the death of turkeys and indigenous people at the hands of white men wearing buckles on their hats.
But for many of you, the day after Thanksgiving is also that time of the year where you have to put on your best Gap sport coat, head out to the local beef-and-beer drink your way through a high school reunion. I documented my experience last year. This year, it's your turn. Please submit your High School Reunion Horror Stories so we call have something to read about besides the shitty Colorado Nebraska game or whatever basketball slop is thrown our way.
This is basically your time to vent: give us all your awkward interactions, bitch about the food, gripe about who got fat. Consider this a service piece for all those unfortunate individuals who will have to spend their Friday evening realizing either that their life hasn't gotten any better since senior year of high school or that, yes, 35-year-old white people still feel compelled to pogo-jump in the air when House Of Pain comes on if they are in a group together.
Send to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please don't send anything about Pat Murphy.