starting-blast landlocked

frat parties just ain’t what they used to be.

God, we must have been the dullest college/university types ever growing up. You know, with dedicating the entire first week of school–or sometimes longer–to drinking, and the occasional initiation prank/hazing. Oh and let’s not forget the ACDC you could hear from halfway up the hall. That’s nothing these days. Alcohol enemas are in, now. Yes, okay, so maybe they blow you way past what would be considered the impaired driving limit. And sure, old Xander over there ended up in the hospital. But damn what a drunk he had on when he went! I mean, it could be worse, right? It’s not like he had himself a liquid nitrogen cocktail or anything. And hey, he kept his stomach. That’s a plus. Yeah. On second thought, blasting ACDC until the folks on the floor below me come knocking sounds like an epic idea. At least if I hit the emergency room, it’s for reasons that make sense–like I had my teeth knocked out for blasting ACDC. See? Boring.

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starting-blast landlocked