Photo Essay: My Graduation

It was a lovely day: very touching. And Blondie was looking great, all tucked in:

I danced like a maniac:

Word was, though, Miss Karple was a maniac in detention:

. . . That wasn’t cider. She had about eight of them. And then the Principal whispered something to her:

He reached for something:

Now that I think of it, what in the hell was going on?

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