Summer camp. Summer school. Summer love. First jobs. Re-inventions. Endless skateboarding, band practice, television watching. All this plus a visit to Disneyland. Is there anything in life as perfect as summer vacation? SPF wasn't the sun level - rather it was Sexy Playing Females with bikinis and sand and tanning...and maybe then you got burned. Was it by the sun, or a summer lover is what we wanna know. Were you stuck in school, a summer job, or just hanging out listening to your summer mixed music tape? No sleepin' in here. It's a classic high school essay, "What I did on my summer vacation." This time you don't have to pick up a pen, come dictate it to us and we'll guarantee you get the "A." Just make sure you tell us the juicy parts from the three months you got, once a year, to rule the world before the autumn bell brought you back to reality.

If you ever teased your hair, wore studded leather, or decorated the back of your denim jacket with a ballpoint-penned Maiden logo, you're probably qualified to preach the metal lifestyle. Rock and Roll, smoke a bowl! Maybe not always the last part, but being a Metal Head gave you permission for Mayhem, Music, and an image that said "don't f**k with me."

Nobody gets through high school without feeling like a total loser now and again. But God help you if you were unusually intelligent, gifted in something other than sports, or a little more shy than normal. Remember holding your purse or suitcase a little tighter because you think you might still get booked? Nerd, Geek, Dweeb, there was abuse and there was revenge, but chances are you've won the battle as of today. Most people today want to tell millions they were a geek. We're looking for the TOTAL geek. Locker luggage, Wedgies, Noogies. You name it, we want to hear about it. So, celebrate your high school trauma with us, as all those Jock losers watch from their homes.

You know altogether too much about Guatemalan fashion, applecore pipes, Phish, and scabies. There was at least one year of your life when you smoked weed every day. The words Patchouli, Parking Lots, and Playing in drum circles actually mean something to you. On tour or trippin out, what's the journey you took while in the culture of peace and love? Grab your Birks, find your tie-dye, and maybe wash up (?), before you tell us about those high school days as a Hippie. You missed Woodstock by twenty years, but that didn't stop you from taking in a tour with the Dead. So how did the haze of dancing bears and dread locks, stand up to the reality of high school hierarchy and your folks? Grab some munchies, cause it time to scrape the resin of your memory man...ya dig?

Everyone likes to be to be treated as an individual. But no one wants to be different in High School. 'Cause you were more different than you could admit at the time? Being in a clique or group could have been difficult. The real question were you getting out there with all the drama or just staying put. Join us for the most agonizing and captivating episode yet.

The only kids who hated sports were the ones with no game. You may have hated the laps, the drills, the early AM practices, and the coach -- but you loved the game. And the fringe benefits (parties, power, popularity) weren't too shabby either. If those glory days were yours, we're listening... Pep was your drug of choice. The Hallways were your red carpet. Every winning game on the field was a story that would go down in your town and school's history. Basically you guys created the kingdom known as high school, and we want in on the rules and regulations that kept you in the "in." You had a play book and you had the practices, but the fact is as a Jock or Cheerleader, you didn't need either. On or off the field, you were the stories that people told over and over. "Guess who so and so is dating"..."Did you see what so and so was wearing"...you were usually setting the trends and creating the drama for others...you were: The Jocks & Cheerleaders.

Screw your reputation. You knew something the squares didn't: high school is the best time of life to indulge in sex, drugs, and rock and roll. And if they didn't like it, just let them say it to your face! Bad girls, you know who you are. It's time to tell all. What's the best way I should fight that girl spreading rumors about me? What's that excuse I should tell my parents, so I can stay out all night, again? Which animal (zebra, leopard, panther) spandex, makes me look the hottest? Come hang out in the back seat of your teen years and let us in on the secrets. Don't worry, we'll write you a hall pass!

Can you uprock? Did you catch the Raising Hell tour in '86? Do you have a "gas face?" Are you ever nostalgic for the Daisy Age? Testify. Did you treat your sneaks to a nightly shoe shine? How many D-batteries did your boom box hold? Give us your B-Boy history. Where goin' old school and there ain't no half steppin'

It's not your fault your parents were loaded and gave you all those things every other kid secretly lusted after (clothes, cars, exotic vacations.) The envy is too much for the rest of us to bear: please tell us rich teen life wasn't as fabulous as it looked! Yeah, your wallet or purse had a little extra weight to it, and we know it wasn't a condom or can of hairspray, it was the green and plastic stuff. The point is, you couldn't buy your way out of the pressures of high school...or could you? Set the record straight and don't be modest about it. Rich or poor, a teens a teen. So, come cash in on your teen years.