Is it bad when your face is peeling off in chunks? Well only if you eat the chunks I guess. And who eats anything chunky? Chunky as an adjective for food just sounds wrong. Well refried beans are chunky and I eat those. But I don't describe them as chunky 'cause other wise I wouldn't eat them.
3-6-9 damn yer fine. What exactly is that supposed to mean anyway? And for that matter, what is schizzel my nizzel supposed to mean? nizzel just sounds like a penis to me. Maybe that is just me and my phallic fetish/ fixation.
It's pretty bad when you have to smell your hand to see if you puked the night before after a long hard drinking session. (long and hard-see the phallic fixation? p.f. if you will?) I don't remember as much as I used to after a night of drinking. It's like Alzheimers for 21 year olds. I can now empathize with those 80 year olds who don't recognize people they've met. I hardly ever remember people I meet while drinking.
"If you look back on a year and it doesn't make you cry, happy or sad, it was a year wasted." And I would venture to add that you must not have spent it wasted either. This kind of relates to some thoughts I have been having about this being my/and some of my friends' last year of college. The college experiece is merely an exaggeration of the real world. Hard times are harder, tiffs with friends become relationship-ending fights, and good nights out are the 'best nights of your life.' Everything is much more dramatic. You passionately love people and passionately hate them. The college life exists in a vaccuum and once you get out of it you don't experience things in the same way. There is a different set of rules in the college world that don't apply in society. Soon my college life will be a distant memory told as a funny anecdote. The college life makes you so crazy that you learn not to take yourself or life too seriously. You can't and still survive. It's an adaptation that those put through college recieve. I am sounding more like Dr. Phil everyday. Well that is enough aimless rambling for the day. Time to get back to my oreos!
3-6-9 damn yer fine. What exactly is that supposed to mean anyway? And for that matter, what is schizzel my nizzel supposed to mean? nizzel just sounds like a penis to me. Maybe that is just me and my phallic fetish/ fixation.
It's pretty bad when you have to smell your hand to see if you puked the night before after a long hard drinking session. (long and hard-see the phallic fixation? p.f. if you will?) I don't remember as much as I used to after a night of drinking. It's like Alzheimers for 21 year olds. I can now empathize with those 80 year olds who don't recognize people they've met. I hardly ever remember people I meet while drinking.
"If you look back on a year and it doesn't make you cry, happy or sad, it was a year wasted." And I would venture to add that you must not have spent it wasted either. This kind of relates to some thoughts I have been having about this being my/and some of my friends' last year of college. The college experiece is merely an exaggeration of the real world. Hard times are harder, tiffs with friends become relationship-ending fights, and good nights out are the 'best nights of your life.' Everything is much more dramatic. You passionately love people and passionately hate them. The college life exists in a vaccuum and once you get out of it you don't experience things in the same way. There is a different set of rules in the college world that don't apply in society. Soon my college life will be a distant memory told as a funny anecdote. The college life makes you so crazy that you learn not to take yourself or life too seriously. You can't and still survive. It's an adaptation that those put through college recieve. I am sounding more like Dr. Phil everyday. Well that is enough aimless rambling for the day. Time to get back to my oreos!
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