The hell of the magazine drive

So we're right in the middle of our magazine drive and I'm ready to kill. For those of you who haven't been exposed to the yearly hell that is the magazine drive, here's how it works. Students sell magazines to their family and neighbors. Unfortunately, the ordering process is so complicated that so many students make mistakes and people don't get their magazines. That isn't the part I hate. In return, students earn cool prizes for how many magazines they sell. 10 magazines get you a limo lunch. 5 orders gets you a tiny iPOD speaker. 2 orders gets you a 5 pound bag of Gummie Bears. 1 order gets you a squishy-ball pen.

That's the part I hate.

Nothing says hyper like a 6th grader with a FIVE FREAKING POUND BAG OF GELATINIZED SUGAR. And don't get me started on the pens. The kids liked the squishy ball pen until someone figured out how to remove the squishy ball from it's mesh prison. Then they used the squishy ball as a stress ball. Until the first one exploded. I'm so not joking. Exploded a orange mess of what felt like slime. That of course was the coolest so I had exploding squishy balls all day. I can't wait until they get to the locker toy that makes dripping noises so your locker sounds like it is actually a deep cave. No one's going to be able to walk down the hallway without getting the urge to urinate. Or how about the howling monkey toy? I still remember hearing AROOOOOO! AROOO AROOOOOOOOOO! until I was about to rip that fucking monkey's plush head right off.