My head says “Exercise tights are not appropriate school wear!” Then my heart sees that girl in my COMP class and all is forgiven...
The Grammys: proudly showing that bad taste and industry power/consensus are not mutually exclusive.
So, when does the Trump press conference happen where he walks to the podium nude, calls on a reporter, the reporter says “Sir, are you nude?” and he says “Of course not, fake media person. This is the best suit Ivanka and her fashion line makes. And as I said before, my hands are not small, believe me. They’re Yuge.” Sad!
As long as the sun sets in the west and night follows day, some jackoff from Goldman Sachs will whisper in POTUS’s ear about the best way to fleece the American people out of their money.
So Clefchella, way to culturally appropriate an event for your poster. That is so 2005. You made yourselves even less hip. Did not know that was possible.
Hey brah, your constant drunken freshmen-style referring to government spending in shorthand as “g,” which you obviously learned in a B-school seminar, makes you a giant “d.” Guess which shorthand I am using?
The architect of the Muslim travel ban, Steven Miller, went to Duke. Just sayin’.
How dare you. Using the “writing an essay” episode of Spongebob to fuel your editorial cartoon and not even giving him a shoutout? You’ve betrayed the true hero of our generation. You know who you are.
Thank you so much, Mr. Whistler for embedding Danny Boy in my brain forever. Nine repeats in five minutes is plenty.
To the cute girl in the second row of my bio class: Are you a homologus chromosome? Because I think we’d make a great pair.
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