Bad news here. Uninhabitable for the remainder of the school year.
Pour a little shitty beer out of your plastic cup at your first opportunity.
Showing posts with label Touch the fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Touch the fire. Show all posts
F!re @ Phi Delt
Bad news here. Uninhabitable for the remainder of the school year.
Pour a little shitty beer out of your plastic cup at your first opportunity.
Homecoming - w00t!
It must be some cruel game the Generic Good Morning Message ("GGMM") writers are playing with me. Despite repeatedly sending "Please take me off this list...", I'm greeted with mean-spirited emails about me like this one (got the class year wrong NBD). And no, Lance/Dobbins/Forrest/Meredith, I dont normally open these horrible pieces of writing but for the first time ever, it actually came in the morning - I had to at least give credit where credit was due.
Happy Homecoming and welcome back to all equally sweet alums. Yay Pledges!
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Scott ___
Date: Fri, Oct 17, 2008 at 7:05 AM
Subject: Good Morning
To: GOOD-MORNING@listserv.dartmouth.edu
This is the Generic Good Morning Message for Friday, October 17, 2008.
What up Dartmouth world, it's me. You know, that '05 who comes back for every big weekend? Hoooooooomecoming number eight! Yeah I know, at some point it's just too sketchy. Haha, but fortunately I haven't hit that point yet. See all my boys are the '07s bros I know. No one in my class really liked me that much, but when the '07s joined my house they all looked up to me and thought I was THE MAN. So anyways, those '07s know the '09s, so man the '09s must think I'm just legendary based on what the '07s tell them. Dartmouth has treated me good, man. Yeah I suppose in high school I sucked ass. My head was too big or my hair was too curly, but whatever, dude. As soon as I came to Dartmouth, joined a frat, got validated, picked up a few witticisms and impressed the hell out of underclassmen, my life really took off. There wasn't enough time to enjoy that brief year or two when I got [what I misinterpreted as] respect, so I just have to drive back up three times a year. I can't wait to get down and dominate the basement scene. Once a pongstar, always a pongstar. They dig me here, man, they dig me. Why would I ever stop coming? My life is the opposite of sad and pathetic. See you at Carnival!
