There is absolutely no reason why I should feel intimidated by the spectacle of dumpy dog Joan Calabrese pretending to be a "fashionista." Joan was never anything but a minor nuisance in the alphabetical order of things, her locker very near mine but I really couldn't care less and don't remember what she had in there. I could say pretty much the same thing about that dishonorable dog Marta Brizuela, a whiny nuisance who has way too much money for her own good. Just having a sister who attended the Sorbonne does not mean that you ever did the homework or ever held the political office in the family.
All of which makes me wonder who bombed the SAT. My score wasn't that bad, all things considered. Although I did not achieve the genius range of creepy weirdo Dave Hoskins, obviously test scores are no guarantee of future success as we see from the pathetically bad example of Dave Hoskins.
So obviously someone bombed the SAT and I don't appreciate a creepy stranger such as Dave Hoskins, who has no business pretending to know anything about me or having any connection to my high school class, insinuating that it was me. I am not that dumb. I always did my homework. My GPA was affected by various factors so obviously I did not make the National Honor Society, not that it matters. Almost the only person who did get into the NHS was Carmen Alfaro so obviously that does not mean very much. Huei-nin Liu also made the NHS but she was smart.
Thus, there is no reason for anyone to expect me to share Joan's "pain." In fact, I couldn't care less about that filthy wicked witch, speaking of Joan, and I don't want to ever see her poking her putrid nose into my personal life that way ever again. She has her place on the high school alumni list and that is all she is going to get from me.
