I should warn you, if you were not a pre-teen or teenage girl in the late 80’s or early 90’s…please stop reading now. This entry will make absolutely no sense to you!

So I was dicking around online, and stumbled upon mention of something that tossed me right back into fourth grade. I think. Wait, were boys still disgusting in fourth grade? I can’t remember. Let’s just say whatever grade I was in when boys became less yucky and more kissable.

Anyways, any pre-teen girl worth their weight in jelly shoes knew how to play the game MASH. Such power that intricately folded wad of paper had, to decide one’s fate at such a young age!

I remember standing on the blacktop in my huddle of Bonnie Bell’ed up girlfriends during recess playing MASH (Um…girls don’t PLAY at recess, losers, we are too busy planning our weddings). I remember wishing please let me get the mansion, there is no way I could survive in a shed. Please let me get the limo, there is no way I could function in a car with less than seating for 12. Please let me marry Steve, the other 5 boys in my class (yeah, I went to catholic school, slim picking in a class of 12) are so gross, and if I have to marry Greg I will die, seriously, I will die, all he does is fart after lunch everyday.

All I gotta say is, thank goodness the MASH gods had pity on me, can you even imagine how much it would cost to heat a mansion in Ohio? And how ridiculous would I look driving my own ass around in a limo? And obviously, I am glad it didn’t pretend work out with me and Steve. Not to mention, not getting stuck with stinky Greg…who is probably a gorgeous millionaire right now, who no longer farts, and has a basement full of coins he swims in like Scrooge McDuck.

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