I Feel Really Bad

ourluvisgod:

Because I stabbed Zach Eser in the face with a fork. 

I remember one time someone compared me to Philip Seymour Hoffman in college.

11,819 plays About A Girl The Academy Is... Fast Times at Barrington High
I’m not gonna waste these words about a girl.

(Source: lannismirk)

I Feel Really Bad

creepykyriarchybatman:

Because I stabbed Zach Eser in the face with a fork. 

(Source: yohoyohoadisneylifeforme)

boesed:

laughinghieroglyphic:

warbyparker:

Whoa. The MLA has officially devised a standard format to cite tweets in an academic paper. Sign of the times.

Hm.

ebooks, Horse. (horse_ebooks). “Leg Butt” 18 Nov 2011, 12:38 PM. Tweet.

For my friends who are still in college.

(Source: warbyparker)


VEDA 2K13 Day 27.

Had a stellar weekend at SMCM with my St. Mary’s family. I can’t wait to visit again. It’s gonna have to be soon.


SIGNAL BOOST.

A good friend of mine, Paul Daley, just started up a vlog on YouTube. You should subscribe because he’s a nice guy with a ton of anxiety and a really big nose. Sorry, Paul. I said it. Big nose.

Anyways, he’s awesome and he’s learning and growing up and really modest and means well. So please excuse the awkwardness and give him a look and some pointers because he really wants to be a YouTuber.

This is the cover art for the latest mix. I couldn’t sleep.


This made my night.

(Source: doll-mouth)

ladofthewildeknight:

Note to whoever broke into the theatre and fucked with it last night:

That wasn’t funny. If I find out who you are, you’re gonna have to answer to hell.

Got it?

Good.

Fucking, really!?

Come on, man. The TFMS department is a home to a lot of the students who live in your corridors. To those students who took it upon themselves to make a ruckus within the safe haven of the theater department: Why? What’s the us of messing with a place that is so special for your peers? You wouldn’t want them to fuck with your special place, would you? Fuck.

I really hope that Gilligan finds the creeps responsible for this treachery and he gives those losers a piece of his mind. This is uncalled for and absolutely rude, unacceptable, and volatile. Especially for a school that preaches about the importance of community.

St. Mary’s College of “Really? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Apparently the housekeeping staff, according to doll-mouth and other students at SMCM, has to report to work despite Governor O’Malley’s insistence on staying at home and braving the storm.

Seriously!? This is all kinds of fucked up. Is it honestly appropriate to ask hard working individuals - who already receive close to dick for their services - to risk their safety in order to tidy things up? You couldn’t maybe ask the students to actually live up to the hype for once of being an “honors college”? Maybe try and persuade them not to do anything vapid enough to require housekeeping during a freak storm?

Get your shit together, St. Mary’s administrative staff. Have the housekeeping staff stay home and be with their families until Sandy blows over. Better yet, continue to pay them for the days they have missed due to the storm because it’s not like they took a sick day. On top of that, tell the students to take out their own fucking trash and to flush their own fucking toilets at least until the storm dies down enough for it to be safe to get to and from the school.

I know this is just so much to ask. As an alumni, however, I want to remind you who exactly helps pay the bills. Don’t expect us to give back if you expect too much from those who already work harder than everyone else.

When Kenne Toula and Zach Eser Engage in a Dialogue: Vol. II.
  • Zach Eser: I miss you my wee little noodle man.
  • Kenne Toula: I miss you, too, my stout little meatball man.
  • ZE: When are we going to visit [SMCM] and fuck with people?
  • KT: I don't know the next time I'll be heading down there. Alumni weekend maybe.
  • ZE: We need to be with our kind, Kenne. The ones who make up a merry freakshow both on and off the weekends.
  • KT: You mean the improv people?
  • ZE: Kenne - I am talking about the mole people we became friends with after smoking that God awful and/or blessed blend of peyote and crackrock out in the wooded glen behind LQ.
  • KT: That's right. How could I have forgotten? Yes. We must do that again.
  • ZE: What were their names again? There were 14 of them. I remember Christoph McJenkins McBucket.
  • KT: There was Emerson, Jacobson, Toe Cheese - he was my favorite, Wadsworth, Chin Face, Brown Eye, Titus. That's all I can remember.
  • ZE: Cheeseball was my favorite next to Dick Kensington and his gay, butt friend Norris.
  • KT: We're forgetting three others. Oh, wait! I remember. They were all named Richard Johnson. One went by Richard, another by Dick, and the last by Penis.
  • ZE: But Penis' real name was Jeremy. He wanted to be the third wheel in the dynamic duo.
  • KT: Right. I love those guys.
  • ZE: They were guys? Fooled me. I guess I know jackshit about mole anatomy.
  • KT: Guys is used more as a collective term for them. I think Chin Face was a female.
  • ZE: Well, duh. She taught us everything we know about women from how they dress and talk to proper trasheating etiquette in the presence of something with tits.
  • KT: She said, "Just dive in and start stuffing the trash because you're going to eat down in her blouse."
  • ZE: Mmmmm....blouse diving. The garbage fish smell times.
  • KT: Are you typing in Crack Fox voice?
  • ZE: NO! I'mma turn you into a sock puppet.
  • KT: Be quiet, Eleanor!
  • ZE: Your fishfry is making my tears sweat. TOE CHEESE IS MAH NICKNAME FOR A PEASANT UNCLE. TEE-HEE-HOO-HA. He's also one of our mole friends. An angel in goat's blood. That's sacrificial clothings. I miss your face.
  • KT: I miss your ass.
  • ZE: Which one? The one on my ass or the one on my face?
  • KT: Neither. The one on your chest.
  • ZE: The one that's hairy like a hairy little mountain bed.
  • KT: Yes, Zach. That one.
  • ZE: Good, Kenne. Good.
  • KT: What does that mean?
  • ZE: It means you and I are gonna go eat a chicken covered in asbestos and ride his corpse like tiny little jockey men and then we're gonna get liquored up on a handle of your grandpappy's special recipe. It smells like a doghouse for special needs dogs. Calcutta.
  • KT: Excellent.
  • ZE. Wavelengths. We are riding the same ones.
  • KT: We should go on the road as Spaghetti and Meatballs and just do what we do.
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