My boy Adam and I used the time machine my boy Brad has been keeping in his garage to find out about all the dumbfuck things the freshman are gonna be up to this fall!
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It’s your boy with the poi, your kid with the lid, your son with the concealed carry permit, Frat “Put Your Tits Where I Can See ‘Em” Philskies, dude.
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Out of the supreme zesty-ness of my heart, I’ve decided to share some of my hazing methods and rituals.
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We dive all up in our young Netflix queues to give you some fiery suggestions for all your basic lit-uations.
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Your OG residence may feel like being in a jail cell on a dry campus, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get lit.
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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”
