A.S. Is Not News
The Weatherhuman hereby endorses the Weatherhuman for A.S. President.
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Due to a grossly incompetent, underweight, allegedly male opinion editor who shall remain nameless, today's weather comes to us from the past. Like, yesterday.
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Due to imaginative and budgetary constraints, today's weather comes to us from the past.
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I hope you had a happy Easter and, more importantly, a happy end to lent. How'd those 40 days go?
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Seriously Zodo’s? Were you even trying? I imagine some evil rival bowling alley might have paid for that ad in your name just to fuck up your reputation… if, in fact, there were a rival bo...
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Damn you, JMike! Every year about this time, when A.S. elections are rolling around the corner, I embark on an awesome journey to become the next A.S. President.
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So I'm back from my one-day hiatus, and while I can't divulge the details of my mysterious disappearance, just know that it involved several transsexual hookers, a Bolivian jail, a whole lot of blow a...
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Don’t you just hate it when you’re working on a group project, and you really need something from someone right before it’s due; say for instance, you – being an esteemed Nexus...
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Today's the big day: the day when you get to put in action that evilly genius plot you've masterminded over the last month to get your roommate back once and for all.
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A word to the wise: If you're large, male and drunk, there are certain things you should and should not attempt.
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Did anyone else notice the blood bus by the arbor today? Not too unusual on its own, I know. But I did care for its juxtaposition next to the girl dressed up as a giant vagina across the way.
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So fellas, it's past midnight on a random weekday, and you and your lady friend are jonesing for some delicious sweets. Maybe you've got the munchies... or the drunchies. I won't judge.
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