Stereotypes: A Cheater’s Worst Enemy
After a semester of keg stands and Taco Bell free-for-alls, you are completely unprepared for the final exam. You have but one choice left: find someone to cheat off of.
After a semester of keg stands and Taco Bell free-for-alls, you are completely unprepared for the final exam. You have but one choice left: find someone to cheat off of.
From the moment you wait half an hour for a drink, to avoiding a meathead fight on the dance floor, to stepping over vomit at the exit, you couldn't wait to leave the bar/club.
I have outlined the similarities between jobs and the lovely women in my dating pool. Please don't pee in it, you'll wash off their makeup.
After Part 1, I still have several Facebook "friends" left that I'd like to alienate, so I will make my point again by ripping apart more annoying posts about kids I've seen recently.
It doesn't matter how insanely hot your girlfriend is—inside every beautiful woman is a teeming mass of insecurity. Which is where the time-honored tradition of trash-talking strangers comes in.
Libya is like a hot fat chick. We want to mess around with her, but we're not comfortable admitting it to anyone. Libya is like our latest night booty call ever.
A woman may be as beautiful as a jewel-encrusted diamond, but on the inside, she's as ugly as the elephant man swimming in a big fucking puddle of diarrhea.
Even worse than pointless status updates are ridiculous quizzes. Stop spending your Saturday nights trying to find out "What's Your Sexual Style."
A realistic assessment of you, the asshole customer, from the perspective of the most under-appreciated people in a restaurant, the kitchen staff.
I'm a halfie: my mother is Cuban and my father is American. I'm not brown, I'm not white… I'm fucking khaki. And it sucks. Here's why.
Everyone relies on someone, somehow, some way, at some point. I contacted several of these nouns for a brief thank you note to their better half.
It's a bright Saturday morning and you wake up to find that you're feeling a little bit off. Does your mouth feel like a mix between sandpaper and sawdust? Yeah? You, my friend, are hungover.