As a teenager filled with curiousity and fueled by rebellion, it was normal, for lack of a better expression, to do stupid shit. Elm and Oak trees everywhere were regularly decorated with single and double-ply toilet paper, but it was okay. It was all joy and fun until you were cleaning the mess on a rainy day. I couldn't tell you why toilet-papering was so amusing. Likewise, I don't know what it was about being in a gang that lured me to join one when I was fifteen.
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