I've never had to wheather such a barbaric thing as a high school reuninon as everyone in my class pretty well still hates everyone else, so the Wirt County High class of 1992 simply didn't have one.
Actually, I don't need one. Most of the people from my class that I want to see (few though they are) either live with me (two at present count) or I see at least once a month.
Also on the horizon, My friend Ryan and I have been planning a party for sunday night down on the farm. I guess he still wants to do it, but I haven't been hipped to the plans yet. If you want to attend, if we are indeed still doing it, contact me via E-mail. It'll be hard to give directions a more accurate than "drive into the woods till you get lost", but I'll give it a whirl. Actually, I'll try to post a Mapquest map here on the blog.
Please do bear in mind that it's in the middle of nowhere, where the screams of another human being, be they in agony or extacy, cannot be heard by another human being.
Actually that brings me to another point. If we do have a party, and if you are female (and always have been), and if you're looking for love, show up at the party with your ass, whatever style condoms and lubricant you prefer and ask for me, Ford W. Maverick.
Oh yeah, bring shoes that you can run well in. If at any point you hear banjo music... well, I think you know what to do.