Friends. Get ready. Next year, in lieu of having to sell myself on Franklin to pay for housing, Jonathan, Jonathan, and I will be purchasing a trailer home and hitching it up to Jonathan's grotsky red Honda and hauling that junk up to the top floor of Cobb deck - putting that sucker in park - and residing there for our final, triumphant year at this God-forsaken University. And yes, we WILL have the hookah bubblin' TWENTY-FOUR-SEVEN. Also, while I am having a lesbian relationship with Abby Farson after I don't get married, J. Hecht will be having on-again-off-again love triangle with Fillet-o-Fish and Jonathan Clements.
Andrew Fletcher desperately needs a point of balance. Or alcohol. Or weed. Or both. Either are okay in moderation.
By the way, I am going to Mexico. Keep me in your prayers.
Also, I have a new best friend. His name is Rodrigo. And yes, he IS a meth addicted clown.
Good night, friends.
P.S. - Orgies and soccer practice are not mutually exclusive activities.
P.S.S. - While everyone has their panties in a bunch over tuition, I am worrying about how to make every building over 8 stories a-okay for alcohol. I don't know how this is going to affect my future life in Cobb Deck, but that's something I'll figure out another day.
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2 comments:
kathryn or catherine or whoever you are--thanks for that post. it was hysterical. and boy but i needed it.
;)
I cannot WAIT to begin our lesbian love, m'dear. And breastfeed our beautiful, white-smocked children. It will be glorious. And you can wear the pants.
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