1983~ Summer school, Broken Bones & Swooning

I’ve been added to the network of the most sarcastic and totally ego driven clown in the blogosphere.  And I must say, I’m touched…. it’s about friggin time.

Mighty Dyckerson, this Bud’s for you, pal.  


Well, not really.  I’ve never claimed to lick dyck or anything else.



In the summer of 1983 I was leaving Jr. High guppy pool for the High School ocean.

Scary shit.   Sharks live in the ocean.

It was the year that I noticed boys weren’t just pests.

It was the year I made out with a boy for reals. Not just pop kissin.

It was the year I ended up in  summer school for the first time because we were constantly ditching school to go to the beach.

It was in summer school where we were jackin around and walking across the desk tops when an asshat named Jack pushed the desks knocking us all to the floor…  resulting in my left ankle being broken.

It was the year I broke my right leg in two places jumping from the Chevron pier like a dipshit during low tide.

Boy did I get in trouble over that one.  Jumping off a pier that was restricted to Cheveron employees only.  Yah, my ass was kicked and I couldn’t even run.

It was the year I got pegged signing my mom’s name to my report card because I didn’t want her to see how many abscences I had. 

Spent a week in In-School-Suspension over that one.

It was the year that I first shaved my legs and when that evil bitch named mother nature paid me a visit for the first time.  Echhh.


It was the year the year that me & a friend of mine thought we were gonna be kidnapped and killed.  No joke.  Without a doubt the most horrifying day of my life.

We were kickin it at a little park, just after dark, when we noticed a dude get out of a van and started walking towards us. 

He was holding rope, we could see it swinging as he walked.

We left our bikes sitting where they were and took off running.

Both of us had lived in our neighborhood for years and everybody knew everybody.

We cut up the next street, running like crazy and screaming bloody murder.

We ran into Shawn, a cop with balls of steel and no fear… He saw the guy duck into one of the carports.

As it turns out, he was a bad man, a drug dealer.   He ended up in jail, but we were all scared to be out after dark unless we were in a big group.


Def Leppard hit the scene with Pyromania which spawned Photograph, Foolin & Rock of Ages.


Prince was the shit with Little Red Corvette & 1999.

 This was the year I got bitten by the Teen Bop bug.

Teen Bop supplied teenie boppers with an overkill sized supply of 8×10 pictures of Duran Duran to decorate every wall.

These guys had this little girl swooning.



18 Responses to “1983~ Summer school, Broken Bones & Swooning”

  1. Things I’ve never understood list – you don’t go to school, so they give you in school suspension. You’ve already missed too many classes and now, they’re going to put you in a room where you’ll miss more classes while having to teach yourself.


    BTW thanks for not bringing back the memories of Culture Club.

  2. now you have me tripping down Memory lane thinking of my il spent youth

    finally getting to play with Becky’s tits…getting caught naked behind the curtain in the gym with aforementioned Becky…spitballs…fircrackers junky cars .. and using binoculars to peer into the girls change room….:))))

  3. ’83/84 was my sophomore year of high school. Man did that suck.

    But, I never got into the kind of trouble you did! I got my share of detention, but never in school suspension. Sometimes I wish I had been in more trouble as a teenager though. I feel like I missed out. LOL

    It was a good year for music though, wasn’t it?

  4. Wow, sounds like you had a pretty wild 1983. Was that the beginning of your “wild girl” days? 🙂

    In 1983 I was still an innocent young thing, getting ready to move to Florida where all that innocence would change.

  5. I really was born in the wrong era! In 1983 I was six years old! I have to say though that THE best music was released in the 70’s and 80’s. I do have an affinity for 90’s music because that was MY time, but I certainly don’t feel connected to it like I do the 70’s and 80’s.

    I guess I’m an old soul?

  6. Well… When I was in high school, I was just a big slut. The only cool thing I did was steal my dad’s wife’s car. The uncool thing was I crashed it. She was a bitch anyways. She divorced him too. I like the wife my dad currently has. She’s rich and has lots of pills.

  7. 1983…well it was a great yr…damn it i came into this world in tht very yr..ha ha ha ha ha

    blog updated…i dont see u visit my blog anymore 😦

  8. I’m on a ride and I wanna get off…

    The year I taped John Taylor’s photo to my pillow and made out with it until I tongued a wet hole in his mouth and had to replace him with The Ricker.

  9. awww, those were the days when music wasnt shit…

    good times, good times..

  10. I can’t believe you can remember all of that with such detail….scary shit the guy w/the rope..yikes….Duran-Duran,hmmm…my Aunt was into them

  11. Damn, I am old. By 1983 I had already been married 4 years and life as I had known it had come to a complete and abrupt halt.

  12. omGOSH! 1983 you go girl! I was um, a Freshman/Sophmore… and WOW what a ride.

    That whole scary guy thing with a rope?! Oh yeah, GLAD you didn’t do what every teen does in horror films… like, walk twords him slowing saying “hello?” “hey mister, is that a rope?” oh noes, that is scary! Great job on running!

    After reading your list, I think that all of your mis-haps started with a boy. See? They are evil. 😉

    Love and Light friend,


  13. Congrats on your induction into the MBN! Monthly dues are $50.00. I take money orders or PayPal.

  14. oh the GLORY days of Culture Club! I knew I liked you

  15. The 80’s for me were really wild. I remember doing things that I would NEVER do today. Fun + Wreckless = Trouble? Not really, I seemed to have a lucky streak. What do I miss??? Dating. Falling in love all the time was like some kind of natural high. Bands, concerts, travel, HAIR …. man did I have me some hair!!
    Great post – and BTW … I really love the look of this WordPress blog.

    Something is just different about saying 2000 something. Not as much pizazz.

    1983 for me? Knee deep in physics. 1985? Knee deep in beer kegs!

  16. I always know you were a dyck licker…. well anyway , I was having babies in the 80’s out of school for eons… hugs and you always make me laugh LOL LOL
    I’m so glad to be home, well kinda… if I could have been on a vacation minus my daughter and grand baby and well also my family I would have stayed away longer LOL LOL never rest for the wicked …. Damn them!
    Hugs, Sugar

  17. rantingdiva Says:

    Bumble- Just wait til you see 1984.. Bwaaahahahah.

    Robert- You were a bad, naughty boy… Good for you!!!!

    Jay- The music from the 80s is totally different than any other, reckon that’s why I loves it so.

    Chuck- I have a really hard time believing you were ever innocent.

    Leighann- Uh, are you saying I’m old???

    Upset- You go girl.

    Mav- I’ll be back around, just been awful covered up with kid drama.

    Krissyface- I love it!!!

    FFM- I know it, huh.

    Lisa- Yah, my memories are very vivid for the good and the bad.

    Mike- I was too young in 83 to get into any real trouble.

    Mon- Boy are, as a matter of fact, spawns of Satan himself.

    Meleah- Ain’t flashin back fun??

    Dyck- I’m poor, white trash… can I trade sexual favors rather than pay dues??

    Speedcat- I reckon I’m lucky I was too young to cause any real trouble, because I’m sure I would have found it and been ass deep in it.

    Judy- Welcome back, mamas!!! You were surely missed!!!!!

  18. 1983-1984. What was I doing. Well, I was concerned because Mrs. Geisbrecht, my 1st grade teacher, sat me next to Terry Schultz, the girl that smelled like soup. Not cool. I was also pissed because I had lent her my ‘Cherry Red’ coloured pencil and she never returned it, forcing me to use ‘Indian Red’ for everything. I hated Indian Red.

    That’s about all I’ve got.

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