HOW TO BE A LEGEND IN YOUR OWN TIME, INVOLVING LATRINALIA
There were three girls' bathrooms at Sacred Heart Holy Angels. Four, if you counted the girls' locker room in the gym. All of them scrawled over with the girls' cursive script graffiti.
You could break girls' graffiti down into three basic categories.
Instead of phylum, genus, species, girls' graffiti filed down like this: Love, Sex, and Inspiration.
Love (The most basic and boring):
Brandy and Thomas 2Getha 4Evah
Show your boy some class. Don't write his name while wiping your ass.
I (heart) Javier.
Sex is good for your complexion.
Juli Sung gives great head.
Astrid Thornton is a Whore on the Hill.
Inspiration (Or Philosophy. Depending on how seriously you take this kind of thing.):
It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere.
I hate calculus.
If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it.
You're too good for him.
A closed mouth gathers no foot. And a picture of a penis next to it.
Early February when we were bored and had nothing better to do, Astrid started her own category. She began carrying a black Sharpie in her blue suede satchel. She carried it everywhere and started inking the bathrooms at Sacred Heart Holy Angels.
Don't mess with the Whores on the Hill.
The Whores on the Hill will fuck you up.
Be a Whore on the Hill. You know you want to.
Beware of the Whores on the Hill. They know what you did.
Slowly, she started penning the walls of all our favourite hangout spots: the Coffee Trader, The Oriental, Metropolis.
The Whores on the Hill are coming to a town near you.
Invasion of the Whores on the Hill.
The Whores on the Hill were here. You missed it.
Want to be a feminist? Be a Whore on the Hill.
Got a question? Ask a Whore on the Hill. She knows all.
Hail Whores, you art in Sacred Heart, hallowed be thy names.
The Whores on the Hill are God.
"There," Astrid said, snapping the cap back on her black Sharpie. "Much better, right?"
The whole word written with our name.
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