Confessions of a Dork

I just thought I’d post this up here to share; it’s an article that I wrote for our school newspaper. As this is my senior year, this is the last article I’ll ever right for a high school paper, and I’m pretty durn proud of it.

Walt’s Last Hurrah

So long, High School. <sniff>

I love dorks.

Bravo. My high school epiphanies were 1.) The popular people are not terribly interesting, funny or nice. 2.) The dorks, be they drama-geeks, band room dorks, or goth kids, tend to be all of the above. 3.) I’d rather be a dork and have fun then be popular and bored. In addition, I later learned that all those popular people I feared and hated really thought I was far cooler than I was. So four years of insecurity was misplaced. Bah.

ps: newpaper geeks are the best dorks. This from a chick who had a column with ran for three years under the title “Whine Tasting.” Heh.

While in another thread reminiscing about 80’s music and my graduation from high school in that decade, I claimed I was the Prince of Dorkness. But I would happily cede my title to one who would wear as nobly as you.

f/k/a The Prince of Dorkness
n/k/a The Dork Knight

I love dorks, too.

College is better, baby. You shall see.


Well put, sir.

Great article. Jester!

I’d throw pennies at you dweebs and then peel off in my beat up Camaro if I had either of those items at this moment. :slight_smile:

I am 32 years old. I wear garish Hawaiian shirts. In one Simpson episode in which the guest star was John Waters, John gave a Hawaiian shirt to Bart, much to Homer’s dismay. Homer says to Marge:

“There’s only two kind of guys who wear those shirts: gay guys and big, fat party animals. And Bart doesn’t look like a big, fat party animal to me…”

I fit both criteria.

In my former life as a professional newspaper reporter, I wrote more than one story about speed humps (not bumps, humps), that required interviewing the local police chief and residents of the neighborhood where they were placed. Seriously. More than 24-inches of copy on speed humps.

Great writing, Jester! I wish I’d been as mature as you in high school. I’d have saved myself a lot of grief.