mmmm, smells good
that was the subject line of an email from my li’l sis last week.
and in the body, a one line statement:
i smell like a donkey.
no clue wtf she was talking about. i read her blog. it all becomes crystal clear. and now i’ll attempt to explain.
li’l sis is in her last year of high school. she’s got a whopping two months left, and in these last days, all the exciting things of high school that create the true memories come to a pinnacle. prom, senior skip days, TPing the quad area, donkey basketball, etc. wait, what? donkey basketball you say? i looked through photos from my own experience with the poopy and smelly animals and was hoping to scan them in, but alas, my point and shoot didn’t do the event justice. but fortunately google has some excellent specimens.
as i tried explaining this tradition to the boy, i was greeted with a blank stare. a puzzled look. a where-did-you-come-from accusatory glare. thinking the barrier was due to his london/kuala lumpur upbringing, i ask some friends native to small towns if they had heard of donkey basketball, and again with the stares.
surely someone else has this tradition in their high school. really belle-vegas can’t house the only twisted school district in the country. right?