The latest batch of high school graduates are hatched, and tradition prescribes that on graduation day they have a drink in everybody's house. You do the math. They get around in decorated trucks, and every year they grow louder. No, it is not just me. As a step up from last year they now have professional sound systems, police sirens, megaphones and microphones. It is not too many years ago I got all teary eyed and emotional watching them, so deliriously happy and hopeful in their little hats. Now... not so much. There is nothing endearing about the "Paradise Hotel" on wheels, the crap they throw overboard or the banners hanging from the sides of nearly every truck I have seen:
One honk: we toast, two honks: bottoms up, three honks: we flash some skin (you can just imagine the most frequent number of honks.. Pigs may not fly, but they certainly drive.)
And before you go thinking this was an isolated event, check out this one taking it a step further:
Honk while you are waiting, we have graduated. One honk: we toast, two honks: bottoms up, three honks: we bare it all.
It is not just unoriginal it is downright sad. I was all set up to pity them, when I got home and read the banner on the side closer:
Thanks for the school check (yes, we get those here)... we are looking forward to the welfare check.
Awww, sweet. No?