Growing up, nothing scared me more than getting in enough trouble that I'd be sent to juvenile hall. I remember in sixth grade I forgot to bring a book for sustained silent reading. The teacher sent me home with a negative notice (a pussified version of a detention). I thought to myself, "Holy shit! My parents are gonna kill me! What's next? Juvie?"Thinking back, it seems strange that I'd be so scared of a place that sounded so happy. I mean, "juvie" doesn't sound threatening at all. It sounds like "groovy". It sounds like a place with a lot of bright colors and balloons and arcade games and pizza parties. Come to think of it, it probably was and I fucking missed out.
I blame you, Nancy Reagan. You and your "Just Say No" horseshit lies.
