In the words of the late beloved UCSB English professor Frank McConnell:
“We don’t do shit the first day, we don’t do shit the last day. I don’t know why the fuck they even pay me.”
If there is one thing I’ve learned from all my years at UCSB, it’s that the first week of the quarter is absolutely worthless.
If there is another thing I’ve learned, it’s that the first Friday of the quarter should involve intoxication, not concentration.
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“dusty rusty crusty musty ass california hills”
“frowning in plaid (haunted radios, bird bones + anthropomorphized wind)”
“warming my hands on bridges i’ve burnt”
“songs that make me see god”
“My Playlist #236”
“classy wine moment and intellectual conversation”
“90s heroin chic model off duty”
“tweet tweet bird emoji map emoji”
“not my circus, not my monkeys”
“a grave is probably cheaper than an apartment”
“ATE THESE BITCHES LEFT NO CRUMBS / DID IT IN DESIGNER PUMPS”
