Past Imperfect

I was going through some storage boxes in the back closet earlier and I found my old retainer and headgear and a couple of pairs of those Coke-bottle-lens glasses I wore back in junior high school (hell, I thought they were novelty specs for a second) and I was suddenly transported back to teenage years so awkward the geeks in chess club who played D&D and ran their rock tumblers nonstop could hold their heads high, secure in the knowledge that at least they weren’t me.

Seriously, Puberty! You’re nothing more than the ultimate proof Mother Nature’s nothing but a sadist.

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