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Some call it the yellow fruit. Some call it the holy friend of ham. Most call it cheese; and all love it, apart from Nazis and terrorists.
I bet Billy Mays could do a lot more than sell useless crap to dumb people. Can you imagine having him as your wingman at the bar? I can.
Let me congratulate you on this new chapter in your life, one filled with glitter, embroidery, and fucking girls who like shiny objects (that's you).
If you think dining hall grub smells bad freshly cooked, imagine a girl, in a mini-skirt, in the middle of class, in the middle of the row, who just shit herself.
People do things on the internet that they normally wouldn't do in reality. Some of these things are illegal. But we get away with it, so whateva.
As excited as guys get about blowjobs, they somehow forget that girls like oral too. So, guys, please stay tuned for this very important PSA.
Who could ruin all the fun for you and your fellow partygoers, you ask, on this, the most sacred of days? The Compulsive Gambler and the Girlfriend for starters.
Our love was real. Our love was true. Our love was like a cat that had ample milk to drink in a bowl of purity. Or some weird simile like that, you know?
The goal is to raise awareness for safe sex, kick-ass plays, abstinence, awesome defense, and contraceptives. We're just building on what the USC Trojans started.
The following is a test. Read this story and then answer 3 questions. You will then be told whether you may send a sample TV script to the William Morris Agency.
How you doing big guy, it's me, Future Bill. Or should I say it's 'us,' Bill. I'm writing you this letter from a spaceship house! Just kidding, the future is terrible.
I know you are miserable in this job, and I know you get what you pay for, but if I shell out $13, I expect a halfway decent haircut.