One of the singularly most important nights of any teenage girl's life. Prom night. The only High-school occasion where one can dress as flash as humanly possible and still be deamed as cool. well, in theory.
Highlights of the night had to include our kick-assingly wicked entrance on the back of a brightly painted 1930's firetruck and, of course, when our head of year turned up drunk and ended up doing the conga with a bunch of 12th grade gate crashers who were most likely high on weed at the time..
All in all the evening went pretty smoothly. if you exclude the minor incident with the drinks machine and the flooding of the men's loos that is. oh, and when the photographer was nearly run over.. by my ride.
anyway, nonsence aside, I think we really outdid ourselves this time and created a surprisingly, to say the least, enjoyable evening which will be remembered by many in years to come. (and never to be forgotten by those who's lives were very nearly sacrificed in order to get the firetruck up the venue's driveway to drop my friends and I off..)
Yes, I think we were successful in our feat to make this the most talked-about night of them all...
Our prom owned.
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