Chris Colfer

How do I describe Ms. Sharpton? Imagine if Sarah Palin, Paris Hilton, and Princess Peach had a love child of sorts. Now add even more pink and a splash of bleach.

High school, society's bright idea to put all the naïve, pubescent, aggressive youth into one environment to torment and emotionally scar each other for life. Way to go, society! Best idea ever.

"Are you sure you're supposed to be drinking with all those prescriptions Dr. Dealer is giving you?" I asked her.
"It's Dr. Wheeler, and why don't you just leave that to the professionals?" she said, and took the Advil. "Those warning stickers are for amateurs."

Acne: God's way of reminding you that, besides all your other flaws, you aren't perfect. Thanks for the heads-up, God, almost forgot.

Until I was ten and saw a friend's parents interact, I never realized that people got married because they wanted to, because they loved each other. I had always thought it was more like jury duty: You got an envelope in the mail telling you when, where, and who you were required to reproduce with.

I remember my first-grade teacher was giving a lesson on subtraction.

- When one thing takes another away, what do we call that? she asked my class.
- Homicide! I called out, so proud of myself.

I wasn't technically wrong, but the look she gave me for the following three minutes made it appear that way.