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Apparently I am officer material.
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Weather
In terms of intensity, the life of a cabin counselor ranks up there with that of an inner-city repo man. I know. I spent the weekend chasing a rambunctious group of 12- and 13-year-old kids around cam...
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Winter Quarter is the shittiest poo to ever be shat upon God
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So when Carrot Top suggested we go fuck ourselves, we relaxed, let him rant, and made sure the tape was rolling.
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Labels rule people's lives. Case in point. A Nexus editor burning the midnight oil retreats to his office, secure that precious caffeine awaits.
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People react to the statement, "I don't drive" as if one were to say, "I am paralyzed down the left side of my body" or "I am unable to digest any food more complex than toast."
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The containers for weight gain and muscle growth formulas are really large.
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WH: "Sorry Ray, I was imagining myself as a giant infectious microbe. That's how microbes talk."
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I have several new friends. Last week I purchased and hatched sea monkeys, the playful sperm-like ambassadors of the deep.
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Since the abduction of El Canario, I have obtained a new weathercycle. It is approximately 9 feet long, red and weighs about as much as a 1972 Volkswagon Beetle.
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"Ring Ring"
Me: "Hello."
Telemarketer: "Hello, may I speak to a Weatherby Huuman."
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Every quarter I find myself falling into into the same study habits.
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