D.M.B.

Stands for death, murder, and bloodshed. Just another charming old chestnut between best friends. What can I say? We were SO bored.

Here's a delightfully expressive comic Barbie made about throwing me off a cliff to be eaten by sharks.

After eating and digesting me, the shark makes a poo. Fish: "This looks like food! Yum." Fish makes a poo. Fish: "That was good food." Narrator: "Now Jessie sits quietly at the bottom of the ocean as a small fish's poo."

How could you be more firmly obliterated than to become twice-digested fish poo? Amazing.

I think the whole running "mental hospital patient escapee" joke started pretty much on day one and continued through our whole friendship. Somehow the idea of said patient doing people in with a spoon developed.

Pretty grisly way to die.

The general theme of violence eventually became our original phrase, "Death, Murder, and Bloodshed." DMB, scrawled puzzily into most of our notes.

We talked a lot about giving people the hairy eyeball, but I think Stacy was the one who actually took it a step further by gouging the hairy eyeball with her pencil. Extra venom.

And here's the finest piece of art I have ever received:

One time, a guy-friend and I wrote as many dark, despairing words as we could think of on his assignment, just for fun, and then he turned it in. The next day we got called to the counselor's office. Apparently the teacher hadn't seen us laughing as we scrawled words like "broken," "loss," and "famine" on his Math 1050 paper and thought we might be going all Columbine or something. Oops!

Here's an email I exchanged with that friend a year later. We still weren't over it.

How many inside-jokes from our teen days could stand the light of day? Have any of your own that were... questionable? Share below! WBS- Jess