Yearbooks

While I was at my grandparents house last Friday doing laundry in their basement, I got bored and decided to be nosey.  Well, during the cold war my grandparents decided to build and stock a bomb shelter in their basement, and if one wants to be nosey, there is no better place to be nosey than in his grandparents' bomb shelter.  I didn't just go down there to be nosey, but I also imagined how I would fortify the home in case of a zombie apocalypse.  You know, guy stuff.  Anyway, while I was in the bomb shelter, I noticed a bookcase full of yearbooks from when my grandparents were in high school, and in my ultimate display of noseyness, I thumbed through them.  I noticed that everyone who had signed the yearbook wrote in cursive, and every entry was of a serious nature.  Most of the entries wished my grandpa luck during World War II, and others told of how the school had to make due with war time rationing.  Then I thought of my yearbooks... I remember that during my sophomore year I had to get a new one because someone had drawn a penis on the autograph page, and nobody had written in cursive because most people didn't know how.  And somehow someone thought it would be classy to write things like "HAGS" and "School's a bummer, have a great summer."  That makes me scared for what's going to be written in my kids' yearbooks...