@twitter all of your wildest partying dreams can come true. That's because twitter is the first mobile party college and it goes wherever your phone or mobile device can take you. Scuba diving? You're at twitter. Spree killing? Tweet it. Lighting your underpants bomb? Twit that shit, negro!
You could be brandishing brawny brews with your bros, dicks out in the back of a bus, or you could be snorting monster lines of cocaine out of stripper ass while some South Korean fuck chimera called a jolligirl tries to chase your snake with her prehensile tonsils. The only limit to your twitter college adventure is your imagination and your ability to type with your thumbs. The best part? After four years of partying you'll be fully qualified as a derivatives trader!
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Located in hyperbolic space, Haribo Occidental College's students and buildings are points on a billion-sided, gelatinous, stellated megahedron called the Gummi Knowledge Star. Time as we understand it does not exist in this space, so the troughs of Riemannian waves emanating from unknown (possibly 36 Chambers-related) anti-dimensions constitute semesters and the irregular crests created by the tidal forces of singularities represent vacation breaks.
When the time comes (and it exists always and never) to cut loose no one does it quite like the party animals at Haribo. All points/students/faculty/buildings converge to a single zero point which corresponds to a sidereal multimath all-point located on ever penis, clitoris, and glass of beer in the material universe. In this way Haribo exists as a constant, beer-chugging, unisexual orgasm.
This might explain how Haribo replaced last year's top-rated University of Arizona from the number one spot, folded space-time, and deposited them at the number ten position on our list.
We're not going to solve gun massacres with bad manners, people.
The guns are gone. Now what happens to all those paper targets? Don't tell me you forgot about the paper targets. The ones hanging from little clips on fancy clotheslines at shooting ranges. With no guns to destroy these legions of paper bastards, they go unchecked.
A sign proclaiming "BACTA: DA FUTURE" marks the town's medical clinic
1998: I upload dave.pcx, and change the course of history
Set goals for yourself, and fulfill them. Absurd! Only in video games!
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