The key to achieving your dreams through lying is to start small, to build up a “resume” of sorts. And believe me, your dreams can go much bigger than high school baseball.
Pisces, like the fish, continues to swim upstream, battling against the endless waves of human misery, longing to relax into its current but knowing somewhere in the deepest reaches of its soul that to do so would be a condemnation against all it represents.
Open communication is key: if you rely on subtle body language you will never kiss, you will keep smiling and looking at each other and if someone was filming it for a television show, then it would last two full seasons before anything happened and 15-year-olds would write 500 words about it on their respective blogs.
Carl and his podcast bros are in the process of starting a nonprofit organization geared toward sharing the “art of podcast” with children in rural Malaysia, Namibia and the Midwest.
I have spent the better part of four years trying desperately to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Unfortunately, despite all the career fairs and CavLink postings, no one seems to be hiring for what I think is my dream job: being a police detective in the 1950s named Jack Harrell.
I know many girls choose to partake in the “ugly” trend because they find oversized men’s clothing and Birkenstocks comfy, so I sincerely apologize to the one person reading this article who wears ugly sandals because of her actual foot problems.
After a long, disastrous demolition that somehow was conveyed to viewers as being environmentally friendly, the team kicked it into high gear decorating the house. Lots of volunteers came to help out, to whom much of the work was outsourced. Every now and then the Extreme Makeover team would pretend to work in front of the camera, as they read off of a teleprompter what specifically they were working on.
I asked the waiter for a latte and he said (translation), “No, I don’t have time to do that.” Waiters and clerks in France don’t have to act like robots designed to make everybody else comfortable and satisfied.
During this first week in Lyon I have learned that universal good and universal evil are concentrated into two avatars: for goodness, a French translation of Virginia Woolf’s masterpiece, “Mrs. Dalloway”; for evil, a suave Norwegian teen named Cedric.
In my dreams, Donald never leaves Trump Tower. He sits on a throne on the top floor looking out over New York City, which he thinks is his kingdom because the man is straight bonkers.
If you are easy to love then you will be loved by people who love people who are easy to love. Do you know what type of person this is? Probably the same type of person who says they hate Kim Kardashian.
Instead, focus your attention on these words of wisdom for how to negotiate the usually sturdy — but sometimes treacherous — path between Venus and Mars, should you ever find yourself shacked up with a friend who seems to have a completely different perspective on where the toilet seat goes when you pee.
That feeling when you’re alone in the Istanbul airport at 3 a.m. and the only songs on your phone are the songs you loved in high school and only now do you really truly GET Neutral Milk Hotel.
Listening intently to the two gentlemen seated next to me on the bottom floor of Clemons Library discuss their boisterous escapades from the previous night, I concluded that everyone else on the floor must hear their conversation, too.
Being called the “whisper heard round Grounds,” third-year Engineering student Mark Reynolds reportedly remarked to a friend in class that the girl in the third row had “WAY too much makeup on. It just looks gross.” He then began to dig his own grave in earnest by further wondering aloud, “Why would anyone want to wear that much makeup? She must be pretty vain. She would look way better without it.”
You set your alarm for your 7:15 a.m. sign up time. SIS laughs when you get up at 7:05 a.m. to make sure nothing goes wrong, because SIS knows something will always go wrong — in fact, it plans on it.
The ideal job for my specific skills and goals would be one in which I bury myself in a hole. Every day I would show up at 9 a.m. on the dot and rake sand over myself, whispering, “Yes, very good, the perfect job.”
The following excerpts are notes from George R.R. Martin’s as-yet-unannounced eighth book in the Song of Ice and Fire series, in which all of the political intrigue and betrayal over the Iron Throne has been replaced by a modern bicameral legislative government.
If heaven is a place on Earth, then hell is a place called Amtrak.
I remember a time when life was simpler, when I didn’t have to fart so badly. I had time to go before class but I was too lazy to pause Netflix AND get up from my bed AND walk to the bathroom. It all seemed like too much at the moment.
