Founded in 1923, Shorecrest Preparatory School (SPS) is a wannabe elitist school for posers in St Petersburg, Florida. Despite being a campus primarily comprised of portables behind a facade, Shorecrest has succeeded in luring the children and money of suckers for many years, mostly due to the parents' pathetic desire to pretend they're important while their children end up worthless druggie losers shuffling through the halls of many a junior college across these United States after failing out of some average state school.
Nonetheless, Shorecrest strides along telling all who will listen just how great they are, a note that only falls on the ears of the ugly and/or fat but rich, the once-poor newly-rich, those with an inferiority complex, and they who pose.
SPS fields a decent array of athletic teams, which all are beacons of mediocrity year in and year out. Taking the field, they suit up in hideous green and highlighter yellow uniforms, which they claim are kelly green and gold (clearly a symbolic microcosom of a distorted perception and losery obsession with mock-wealth and ensuing clinical envy), and actually serve as a distracting element to aid their poor athletic endeavors. These blaringly fugly unis are normally adorned by a lightning bolt somewhere, though lately SPS has been brave enough, dorky enough, and posery enough to steal the snakey looking S from the Slytherin House of Hogwarts from the childrens' book series of Harry Potter.
Shorecrest's lush 23-acre campus of portables and pine needles is nestled between festering swamp land, a faux-neighborhood of poorly built homes, and a powerplant that probably gives off enough radiation to explain both the failures of Shorecrest alumni, teachers and their woeful state of denial and thereby protective pomposity.
Uh, I go to Shorecrest.
November 28, 2006