Well, Gang, We Completely Failed to Save the Rec Center
I really believed that a gang of scrappy, oddball teenage underdogs like us could pull this off against all odds.
I really believed that a gang of scrappy, oddball teenage underdogs like us could pull this off against all odds.
‘Tis several weeks beyond Christmas when you realize You forgot it completely—doggone it, time flies!
I usually stay in the center of your tummy but unfortunately today I’m writing to you from the deepest depths of what could be considered your "gut."
I have come to the stark realization that I am no longer funny. I say that having once had one of the world’s great senses of humor.
By the time I’m through with your tokens, they will be funged beyond recognition. I disrupt the blockchain. I drink your milkshake. I funge your tokens.
WHAT WE’RE LOOKIN’ FOR… YOU: - Enjoy tippin’ over hot dog carts for craps n’ giggles - Like puttin’ pennies on train tracks and watching ‘em smoosh
Submissions open at 3 AM on nights when our editor-in-chief looks at the night sky and feels a particular shade of melancholy.
If you’re used to other eateries in the area, you might be surprised by the cold, but we didn’t mind cuddling up.
Okay Peloton community, we’re about to slim down that inbox! Take a deep inhale and move those unread messages straight to the trashcan.
Have you ever fucking had a Flamin’ Hot Cheeto? Multiply that by fucking 800 and you’ll get an inkling about what the goddamn fuck I’m getting at.
He loves late-night, steamy phone calls when I’m home alone. I always tell him it’s such a boomer move but he just loves hearing my voice!
You are entropy incarnate. Which is captured much more accurately by this clip of a frog with long, sexy lady legs that burps up the word "Strike."