Peaks: My offensive valedictorian speech

Hello, fellow classmates, parents, granparents and everyone else dumb enough to sit in the scorching desert sun on this beautiful day in May. It's hot, so I'll try to be quick. Knowing that I am without a doubt the smartest kid in the class of 1996, hell, in ANY class that Alamogordo High School has ever seen, I've had a lot of time to plan this speech. I'd like to talk to you all today about peaks.

A peak is the time in one's life where they might believe they 'have arrived'. That it'll never get better than it is at that very moment. That they'll never have more friends, feel more loved, or be more successful than right then. I feel it is my duty to help the graduates of 1996 plan their peak.

First, though, about half of you can stop listening. I say that because in this class of 500, approximately one-hundred of you peaked in kindergarten. Or worse, at birth. For you unfortunate souls, and you know who you are, it's all downhill from here, am I right?? For another hundred, you peaked somewhere in the eighth grade when you grew boobs or got the lead in the school play or learned to drive your daddy's tractor. High school was just something to occupy your day and to keep you out of your mom's hair. Now you'll be running the cash register at their store and you'll bail out of community college on the first semester. Then for about fifty of you, prom night was your peak. I'm talking to you football stars- the ones talented enough to play first string but nothing to write home to a quad A school scout about. And you cheerleaders, not the sweet, bubbly, smart ones who befriended every kid at the outkast table- but you vindictive sluts that stole boyfriends and wrote nasty things on the bathroom walls with a Sharpie. Which, by the way is a good indicator that even though you'll have a few successes in life, your dabbling in vandalism will ultimately lead to a life of crime.

For the rest of you, the other half- high school was torture. I know, because I was there with you. You wanted nothing more than to see this day arrive, and now that you're eighteen and 'all growed up', life can finally begin. Your peak is out there somewhere, just waiting for you to start climbing. You, my friends, are the ones who will return to the ten year reunion with trophy wives and stories about your stint on reality T.V. You'll be the ones to leave town, have adventures, and ultimately live an existence in this small town only when people from the other half of the group run into each other at Wal-Mart and, after reminiscing about the finest days of their lives when they still had washboard stomachs and no need for a real job, say, "Whatever happened to so-and-so?".

You'll hear the whispers from high above, at your peak. Then, you too will have a mid-life crisis, sleep with a hooker, or worse, a member of a boy-band, and you'll know you're on the downhill slide as well.

Happy Graduation, Kiss My A***!!!!!!!