I will NOT be out-fuglied!!

So Jules and La Turista think they've got something on me in the ugly adolescent photo throwdown? Fuck that. One good thing about being a packrat, is that you keep all sorts of shit around. Behold! The Good! The Bad! And the FUGLY!!

The good:

A few years back. My White Trash party. I was rocking some sweeeeeeeeet crimped hair and leopard print everywhere. And in true trashy fashion, I got this hot photo made with this dude, made out with another dude, and slept with yet another guy that night (and by "slept" I mean just that, because we were both waaaaaaaaaay too fucked up to do anything else. But still...). If I could dress this way every day, I would. I would LOVE to see what the yuppie mamas at daycare would think if I dropped the Geej off in this ensemble with some fake hickeys all over my neck...

The bad:
I actually "dated" this guy. Sort of.

I know! I can't believe it either!! He was the older brother of a friend of mine from summer camp, and he was like 20, and I was about 15. The whole thing was simultaneously sweet and also sleazy as hell. We would get all dressed up (and judging by this photo, you can only begin to imagine how much cologne that entailed on his part), and go over to the "La Bossier" (pronounced "boss-see-yay") in Bossier (prnounced "BOHzsh-uhr") City because a) I could pass for 18 and therefore drink legally and b) we could go "clubbin'" big city style. What was his name you ask? Why "Rod," of course.

The fugly:
These are the two most godawful photos of me that I have. I'm sure that there's someone out there in the universe that has something more embarrassing and horrifying of me than these, but they'd have to be pretty fucking awful to beat these two gems:

Exhibit A: My 6th Grade Class Photo

What in the FUCK do we have here? Well for starters I'm sporting a cranberry velour v-neck with a blue pin of an old timey bicycle on it. How's that for hip? I've got a big red zit on my collar bone and another on my chin, and I'm showing pretty much every tooth in my mouth with that smile. I'm also doing this thing I do where, when I smile really big, I scrunch up my left eye more so than my right. And speaking of eyes...I apparently hadn't figured out that such a thing as "make up" existed yet because my eyes are practically invisible. And then there's the hair. Oh Jesus. Once upon a time it was actually MORE Annie-like than this. At least here I was growing it out somewhat, so it wasn't a TOTAL afro.
The story behind the hair goes like this: Some time during my 5th grade year, my mom (who clearly hated me) got sick of me having constantly tangled hair and decided to do something about it. My hair was was all one length and blonde and really pretty (or so I thought), but I refused then, as now, to actually "do" anything to it which bugged the FUCK out of my mother who has been rolling/treating/perming her hair into a helmet since she was 12. She simply couldn't comprehend how someone could be so lazy about her hair. So she took me to the hair salon at J.C. Penney in the mall and told the hairdresser to "cut it off and make it curly...something she won't have to do anything with." I remember crying for DAYS after that happened. And it wasn't just because of the 2nd degree chemical burns caused by the perm chemicals that got infected and sent me to the minor emergency center. Oh no. It's because I came outta there looking like the photo above.

Exhibit B: Sometime between 8th and 9th grade
This lovely headshot was taken when my friend Lori W. and I went to visit her older sister in College Station. The sister--Rhonda--was like this perfect female specimen, and was in a sorority and so damn cool that all I wanted to do was be cool too. Apparently I missed the mark somewhat. Yes, I was sort of making that smirking face on purpose, but can we talk about what else was going on here? My hair is just bad, bad, bad. One side's doing its own thing while the other is on another planet. And then there are the bangs. God.
The eye makeup is epic. The braces are just plain scary. And thank GOD I finally grew into that nose of mine.
The outfit I'm wearing was this "sweater dress" that was winter white. I remember it costing a lot of money--like $80 or something--and I'd bought it to wear to my uncle's wedding. Clearly the neck is stretched out, and what was with that gold chain?
Oh yeah: The 2nd pair of earrings in each ear. I'd just gotten that second hole done in each ear, and boy did I think I was rad.

So there you have it. This is just the tip of the iceberg people. If I wanted to, this whole blog could turn into "embarrassing shit from Karla May's life" including photos, poetry, letters, locker notes, diary entries, etc. I mean, there's enough material there to go on for decades.

Maybe some day soon I'll post what I think are the BEST photos and the BEST things I've ever written, etc.

But probably not. Because you're all sick freaks, and you want to see the dorkalicioius side of Karla May. Come on...admit it.