SHS!

After receiving an insurmountable number of porn emails advertising barely legal girls getting wild on farms, my AOL-using high school friends and I were disturbed by the blatant glorification of bestiality. For the life of us, we couldn't determine why an eighteen-year-old would be attracted to a goat. Deciding that something must be done about this atrocity, I headed up an awareness-raising group called "Stop Humping Sheep," with a goal of getting people to quit ramming rams. Conveniently, the group's acronym, SHS, was also the initials for our high school, so we could shout our slogan throughout the day under the guise of school spirit. Come to think of it, me exuding school spirit was probably highly suspicious in its own right, but I digress. In addition to SHS, we had other catch-phrases like "We don't love ewe." Ultimately, our campaign was highly successful; to my knowledge, not one person in my graduating class spent eir nights doing anything in bed with sheep aside from counting them.

For my efforts, when it came time for superlatives, I was nominated for Class Activist. Initially, I found it amusing that my crusade against mounting piles of wool put me as one of the top three vote-getters; now, however, it's rather pathetic. At that point, I didn't advocate much of anything publicly. It's indicative of my school that you could hardly find anyone representing a worthier cause. But we're talking about a group of people that couldn't even bother to take its yearbook superlatives seriously, so how can we expect them to champion human rights?