Home for Spring Break, finally. While other people are going to St. Johns and Bermuda and all that for their "vacations" with their "families," I'm at home getting in shape for rugby and catching up on reading. WOOOOOOO FUCKIN SPRING BREAKKKKKKKK HOMER'S '07, you know where to find me, make it a double (but only after two-a-days and The Odyssey).
Yet another bit of comedic solid gold to come out of Boise, Idaho.
It's not that as a female I'm offended by its vagina talk, it's that as a human I'm offended by how not funny it is.
Best porta-potty names
My favorite is a toss up between Doodie Calls of New Orleans and Gotta Go Potties, of Tobyhanna, PA, because both of them sound like they were written by nine(teen) year old boys in the back of the classroom while they were supposed to be writing an essay on their favorite thing about America (positive versus negative aspects of queering the American state and the other). Anyway, this list is pretty great.
Possible Future Husband
This is Chris Jack. Noted historians of my life, draw your own conclusions.
How can you not love this guy? He hosts the All Black little video interviews with the other players, where he asks them about fishing and what kind of expensive shirts they like to buy. This is his rugby diary.
Highlights: He tries really hard to have rugby dreams before games.
He needs to eat a lot before games because he gets nervous and poops a lot.
He doesn’t like the Crocodile Snappy song.
He’s also a dreamboat (obvz—he did not need to record that in his diary).
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