In which the author of this blog seriously contemplates elective insulin shock therapy, just to avoid having to write about Brandon running for Junior class president. In March. Of his Junior year. Also to be dodged: delving into the reasons behind Brenda's sudden status as an outcast, which ultimately leads her to associating with two supremely self-important windbags (no, not Brandon or Steve) who fancy themselves "funny" and "relevant," but who I find rather "annoying" and "the predominant reasons behind my ultimate psychological demise." You'll most likely want to beat up your television set after this one, so gather your boxing gloves, a couple of jugs of off-brand wine, and what's left of your common sense (I mean, you are willingly watching the show and reading this rant-soaked blog) and let's set this night to hatred.
Also: I'm only going to mention this once (even though I kind of already have), because it really bugs the shit out of me but UM, I HOPE THIS IS FOR THE NEXT SCHOOL YEAR BUT IT TOTALLY ISN'T BECAUSE YOU'LL SEE LATER THAT BRANDON'S IDIOTIC CAMPAIGN POSTERS HAVE "JUNIOR CLASS PRESIDENT" EMBLAZONED ON THEM AND DAVID REFERS TO BRANDON AS AN ENTRY IN THE "JUNIOR CLASS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION" AND THIS IS WHAT, MARCH AND THAT MAKES NO SENSE. BECAUSE BRANDON IS CURRENTLY A JUNIOR. UNLESS THE WRITERS HAD ALREADY DECIDED THAT THIS WAS ACTUALLY THEIR SOPHOMORE YEAR AND DIDN'T MENTION IT TO THE VIEWING AUDIENCE.WHY DON'T I HAVE A LIFE? BECAUSE THIS KIND OF STUFF KEEPS ME AWAKE AT NIGHT. Moving on.