Reporting from the past

I am trying to clear away the drifts of paper that have taken over my desk and came across the notes John and I were writing to each other during a play put on by Hannah's class in the 11th grade. I'm typing it up here for posterity, so I can get rid of the paper and also share the absolute WTFuckery of it all.

Me: Very sensual for our daughter's 11th grade play

John: phallic fruit salad

Song: "Silence is Sexy"
Me: as death?

Me: Where's Gallagher when you need him?

Me: Was [classmate] the pink-haired girl?

Me: short dresses and the dance of love

John: too much sexy

Me (from here on out): When did they get masks?

You call that a sense of musicality?!

[Music to prove the theater teacher is still cool.]

broken gaydar

It's my bedtime. :(

Inappropriate therapist! Quacking! With a ukelele! This play is getting better and better.

Now is the time on Sprockets when we dance

[Hannah's giving it her all!]

Fruity confusion Where's the fruit-based violence?

--denial

--loony bin!

--square dance!

Hannah is flumpy. Pinkie has the same posture as Hannah.

bugs!

Hannah's inner voice is a dick

Silence of the lambs`

hep ghost is hep
or is it a musical gorilla?

baby Nihilist

OneFlewOverTheCuckoo'sNest

Conspiracy Theorist--too late!

yelling!

someone's going to lose a finger

Hannah is probably hating this--she never looked up

[weird music accompanying

• dancing
• toothbrushing
• tedding mauling
• front and back masks and yelling
• scratching--note: lay off the smack, girls? chatos?
• suggestive rubbing
• petrified
• he's a zombie!
• Wormtail!
• child abuse

And that is how we spent one evening in a German institution of learning, ladies and gentlemen.

--Nee in Germany is tidying herself into an early grave