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Archive for August, 2008

Top 10 Posters No College Dorm Should Be Without

The shops are amass with binders, book-bags, and signs covered in pictures of other people’s children. Back to school, BOGO, and mail-in rebate scams are everywhere. This can only mean one thing: It’s time to start planning for another year of Adderall, alcohol, and anonymous sex. Yay, College!

For a new year at school you’re going to need some new furniture, a beer-bong, and some posters. Without posters, how would you cover the holes you make in the walls? Or stop asbestos from falling off the shitty dorm ceiling onto you while you sleep? Start this semester off right by making sure your pad is perfectly pimped.

Teamwork

#10 - Teamwork Poster: If there’s on thing that you learn in college, it’s that friends is huge. Ten years down the line you won’t remember your classes, your exams, or anything you “learned.” What you’re going to remember is getting drunk with your friends. Maybe not all the specifics (that’s what photos and pizza stained clothing are for,) but that it generally happened and it was fun. There may be no I in drunk, but there is damn sure a U in it.

Hot Chicks Making Out

#9 - Hot Chicks Making Out: Want to know how I know you’re gay? Because you have a Coldplay poster above your bed. Let the girls know you have a pulse and a libido; get some T&A on your walls! Besides, after college it’s going to be considered creepy to have naked chicks all over your walls unless you’re a photographer or something… and photographers are the creepiest people on earth. And girls, nothing makes a guy want you more than the idea that you might be into girls too. Even if you’re not about to have a threesome, knowing you love Brooke Burke’s Ass as much as I do makes me feel more comfortable. Put up some hot chicks, your guy will like you better.

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Whore My Ride

One day I stumbled onto the porch of my crappy college apartment to see the following scenario unfolding:

There were cars parallel parked along both sides of my street. Two loud, presumably drunk, college students were standing at the end of the street on opposite sides of the road from one another. They gave each other a nod of understanding, faced forward, and leapt up onto the trunk of their first respective cars, ran over the tops of them, down the windshields, and then jumped onto the trunk of their next cars.

This unorthodox test of athleticism continued all the way up the street and off into the distance. Although it was funny, I realized it was time to start protecting myself, and my automotive investments…


Nobody’s using my ride for a sloppy steeple chase, even if it is a busted up purple Galant painted white with bird shit.

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A Case of Mistaken Identity

Forced KissA man is wasted and he stumbles into a bar. He spots a woman accross the room, and after staring at her for some time at he makes his way over to her and proceeds to shove his tougnue down her throat. She jumps up and slaps him. He immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry. I thought you were my girlfriend. You look exactly like her.”

“You worthless, good for nothing, drunk!” the woman screams. “Why don’t you do something with you life.”

“Funny,” he muttered, “you sound exactly like her too.”

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What an Asshole

SkyscraperBob walks into a bar near the top of a high-rise building. He sees another man take a pill, take a drink, and then walk to the window and jump out. The man flys around for a minute and then zips back into the bar.

Bob watched in amazement as the man repeated this feat twice more. Finally Bob approached the man and asked if he could have a pill. The man said it was his last flying pill. Bob offered to buy the flying pill for five hundred dollars, but the man declined. Bob made a final offer of a thousand dollars, saying that it was all he had on him.

The man reluctantly took the cash, surrendered the pill, and turned back to the bar. Bob took the pill, took a drink, and then went to the window, jumped out and fell to his death. The bartender walked over to the man at the bar and, wiping a glass, said, “You sure are mean when you’re drunk, Superman.”

Choose Crunk, not Kryptonite

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How Not to Join the Mile High Club

A plane is hurting toward the ground after both its wings are struck by lightning. The passengers start praying and panicking. One woman stands up in the aisle and screams: “I want my final minutes to be memorable. I’ve had plenty of sex, but know one has ever made me feel like a woman! Can any man here do that?”

Tyrese GibsonThe plane goes silent. The passengers forget their own peril, and stare, riveted, at the woman. Then a tall, dark, and handsome guy at the back of the plane stands up.

“Honey, I can make you feel like a woman,” he says. The man walks up the aisle, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. No one moves. The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the man approaches. He takes off his shirt. Her lips part slightly. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches out to the trembling woman, extending his arm hold the shirt, and whispers… “Here, iron this.”

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