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WE
RUN LJ
Check it out. The Bish Varsity Twerk/Volleyball
Team shat on La Jolla High yesterday. Those groms thought they were super sick,
bringing their flag into our gym, but we truly showed them who runs The Jewel.
Shout out to Ms. Greisen, who made it Raeann, and the rest of the team who went
for gold and placed a fat W on the score card. Special thanks to the yearbook
squad, sponsored by Nikon, for coming out to snap some candids.
Senior
Challenge!
Give Claire Neville and Elizabeth Case
great big bear hugs when you see them. Even though they are THE super hot JV
Tennis Captains, don’t be shy because they are really nice ladies. More hugs
the merrier.
Breaking
Bad
Matt’s article yesterday reached 96%
purity, so I hope you enjoyed our crystal blue distribution. We are looking to
expand our delivery to include Czech Republic.
Joke
of the Day
The Tower.
An
Old Wooden Ship Used During the Civil War
Sorry for the small font. Based on new
diversity quotas, we had to squeeze in Nessa’s article.
Poetry?
Not sure who put in a poetry quiz, but Ms.
Roche emailed back in Latin, so I guess she got it right? I’m not sure because
I only speak live languages.
Lyrics
Quiz
Making my
way downtown
Walking fast
Faces pass
And I'm home bound
Articles
A Common App Essay
By: (Author Withheld)
WARNING:
The following contains Breaking Bad spoilers. Reader discretion is advised.
Some students
have a story or background that is so central to their identity that they
believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like
you, then please share your story.
My Dad was, like, the coolest guy I know. He’d always want to know
about how my day at school was or if there were any girls I liked. He would
even sometimes let me skip chemistry assignments, because he was my teacher and
he could do that.
But then lung cancer happened.
At first, he was just, like, really sad all the time, but then he would just
start disappearing for hours on end. He said he was gambling, trying to make
money for our family. It was ok, though, because he kicked lung cancer’s ass!
My dad rules.
A likely story. Even though he
said he stopped gambling, he bought me a car, and he and Mom bought a car wash.
I didn’t really think about it, because I got a super dope Camaro out of it.
The only thing was that he would always come home smelling kind of weird. It
must have been the soap or something.
But then last week, the truth
came out. It turns out that my Dad was like a giant crystal meth kingpin. It
makes sense, I guess. I mean, he’s really good at chemistry. Like seriously, if
he hadn’t banged Gretchen (his old friend from college, now a major CEO of a
chemical company), he would have been, like a super rich CEO too! But yeah, and
he, like, tried to knife my mom and he kidnapped my baby sister. He totally
killed my Uncle Hank, too. Uncle Hank was, like, the coolest guy ever. My dad just
had to go and kill him. No more awesome police stories, I guess. But on the
bright side, dad’s lung cancer is back, so he ought to die any day now. That’d
be so sweet. I mean like, have an A-1 day, dick!
I know this seems like it’s a
lot about my dad, but honestly, love him or hate him, he is the reason I exist.
Like honestly, compared to him, I’m not, like, important at all. I do think
that it’s weird that he hasn’t met Louis yet. I mean, I’m at Louis’s house most
of the time, you’d think he’d want to know who Louis was, you know? I’d ask him
at breakfast tomorrow, but you know, he left us and is probably dying
somewhere, but hey, that’s cool. He was turning into kind of a psychopath, anyways.
I think that my experience with
my super cool, yet horrible dad who should really just die already, shows that
I’m not the most interesting character in my own life. I really try to make an
effort to get to know people, and I think that it’s because of this experience
and understanding that I think I’d be an A-1 fit for the University of New
Mexico. Just don’t ask how I pay my tuition.
Timed Writing
By: Nessa Garcia (DU SAT expert)
There are many reasons why
I absolutely abhor timed writing. Why, you may ask? Well, first of all, I’m
feeling extremely pressured right now. There is no way I would have included a
falsely proposed question that early in an article. This is not just any
article, you see. It’s an experiment, and I only have 20 minutes and 35 seconds
left.
If you’ve taken a practice
SAT, or my god, the real SAT, you know all about the timed writing section. SAT
prep companies, a.k.a. Summa, require kids to create “Portfolios” so that
students don’t just blank out during the dwindling 25 minutes they have. It’ll
sound like we just happened to know that Robert H. Goddard, an American
professor, physicist, and inventor, successfully launched the world’s first
liquid-fueled rocket on March 16, 1926, after experimentation at Worcester
Polytechnic Institute and criticism from The New York Times in 1924. We
might even use him as an example of resilience and following one’s dreams. Oh
geez, I only have 12 minutes left.
Though to be honest, I
understand timed writing’s purpose. I take timed writings in nearly all my
classes and the ability to think quickly on my feet is crucial. Yet, all I can
feel is my voice being left out to dry while I anxiously try to express my main
ideas. Remember: just. get. to. the. main. ideas. Stop rambling and stop trying
to think of that one word you really want to use…dammit, what is that word?!
I wonder now, if the person reading my
essay has already judged me. They must think I’m a terrible writer, I mean, I
can’t even understand what I’m trying to say myself. Can I use caps? Will my
thesis be clear now? Goddard FOLLOWED his dreams, DESPITE CRITICISM and this is
what—no, that’s not working. I promise that I write well outside of timed
essays. Essay reader, have you heard of the Daily Urinal? No? Well, it takes me
about an hour and a half to write my articles, but I really think I’ve grown
from them and sometimes people talk to me about them, you know, we have
discussions.
Here we are at the one-minute mark.
Before I conclude, I would like to give my apologies to Mr. Hartman because I
have no time to go back over this essay. It could be riddled with grammatical
errors and there is nothing I can do about it. There is also nothing I can do
about my organization. I almost feel like I’m on a sinking ship right now. At
this point, I am literally typing thoughts as they come to my mind and hope
they come off as a conclusion because what I’ve written is terribly
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