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elfenix

Certifiably Surly
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Everything posted by elfenix

  1. This is low-key an asskicking
  2. Fuck you kurt
  3. FUCK OU! TOUCHDOWN TEXAS!!!
  4. Fuuuuuuuuumbbbbbbbble!
  5. I'll take it
  6. Way off jesus
  7. That's some bullshit
  8. Touchdown TEXAS!!!!
  9. 56 go block someone
  10. That's grounding
  11. Uncalled false start
  12. Is he still hurt?
  13. Fucking terrible
  14. Wide right natty light
  15. God damnit
  16. The SEC championship is going to be for who the real UT is. Hint: it's Texas Also, if you're a power 2 conference member and you schedule UMass that should just be a loss. Doesn't matter what the actual score is. Doesn't matter that you blow them out 77 to nothing. That should be a fucking loss.
  17. Soon
  18. it is glue month after all
  19. People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles. This is the first thing I hear when I come back to the city. Blair picks me up from LAX and mutters this under her breath as her car drives up the onramp. “People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles.” Though that sentence shouldn’t bother me, it stays in my mind for an uncomfortably long time. Nothing else seems to matter. Not the fact that I’m eighteen and it’s December and the ride on the plane had been rough and the couple from Santa Barbara, who were sitting across from me in first class, had gotten pretty drunk. . Not the mud that had splattered off the legs of my jeans, which felt kind of cold and loose, earlier that day at an airport in New Hampshire. Not the stain on the arm of the wrinkled, dam shirt I wear, a shirt which had looked fresh and clean this morning. Not the tear on the neck of my gray argyle vest, which seems vaguely more eastern than before, especially next to Blair's clean tight jeans and her pale blue T-shirt. All of this seems irrelevant next to that one sentence. It seems easier to hear that people are afraid to merge rather than "I'm pretty sure Muriel is anorexic" or the singer on the radio crying out about magnetic waves. Nothing else seems to matter to me but those ten words. Not the warm winds, which seem to propel the car down the empty asphalt freeway, or the faded smell of marijuana which still faintly permeates Blair’s car. All it comes down to is that I’m a boy coming home for a month and meeting someone whom I haven’t seen for four months and people are afraid to merge.
  20. apparently eating iguanas in south florida during that time
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