That was the name for a club we had in high school. A girls' club. I don't remember exactly how many members we had but it wasn't a big group - maybe 10.
What's with the name? Oh, yeah. All Boys Are Bastards. Nice, huh?
I don't recall having a secret handshake like boys do. We were way too cool for that. We did, however, have secret names - they were numbers. Naturally I don't remember mine but I'm pretty sure I have a charm on my old charm bracelet with the number on it - I could go upstairs and dig through the jewelry box if you want me to. No? Ok.
I believe we had a song, too. I'm sure it was filled with derogatory lyrics. Can't remember those either; not even the melody.
I do remember throwing a dance in the basement of the Griswold. We couldn't charge people to enter but we could ask for a donation at the door. We even had a band. I'm sure we paid them with the money we collected but what do you think we did with the remaining money? Sent it to Africa to feed the hungry? Buy clothing for the children in India?
Oh, hell, no. We financed a week in a trailer at Ottawa Beach State Park - mostly the beer that went into the trailer. Again, I say, nice, huh?
You already know (if you've been following me daily) that I had a good time in school - particularly high school. My association with the ABABs is definitely one of the highlights of my illustrious educational career.
I'm humming something - it's coming to me - wait for it, wait for it . . . nope. Lost it. It was a snappy tune though, take my word for it.