by Clay Cooper

I started Journalism my freshman year because my good friend Gunnar Davis talked me in to joining with him. I think the only reason he wanted me to join is because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the upperclassmen alone. It took a lot of convincing from him, but I finally decided to give it a shot.
I can tell you with 100-percent honesty that I hated freshman-year Journalism. I was stuck with hard stories that I didn’t know how to write well. By the time freshman year ended and all the crappy stories I had written were forgotten, I wanted to quit and not return the next year. I was almost certain I wasn’t going to join, but Gunnar talked me in to staying for at least one more semester.
I’ve about had enough of journalism talk, so let’s get into my best memories from my time in the rectangle we call “school.”
The very first day of school my freshman year, I strolled on into the girls’ bathroom on accident to check out my pretty hair. When I looked in the mirror, I noticed there were no urinals. I remember thinking to myself, “High school is so different compared to middle school.” A few seconds passed when I realized I was in the chicks’ restroom. So I walked out very casually, trying to act like nothing happened, but Mrs. Dodson was literally standing five feet from the bathroom. We made eye contact, and she said, “I didn’t see anything.” I gave her a nod and continued on with my day.
I don’t remember much about sophomore year other than I started varsity football and made probably one good play (that’s being generous). I also foul tipped a baseball into my kneecap and cracked it. Oops.
Back to Journalism. Sophomore year I decided to have all the seniors write things down so I could put it in a “Dibs” container to open on our last day of school. One day, the Dibs container was gone. I dug through the dumpster after high school for about an hour. It was gross and smelly, and I found things I wish to never speak of, but I unfortunately didn’t find our “time capsule.”
Junior year I ran for president. I lost. But that’s okay, because I am, was and always will be the King of PCM.
Senior year was a relaxing year. Tyler Dredge and I made history as we did a flip type of a deal during a wheelbarrow race. Everyone lost their minds but it’s whatever because at the end of the day their minds were perfectly fine. I also put together the senior skit. We got first, and I got to wear an afro. Sick.
Being a Mustang was average at best. TTYL PCM.