Last night, Scott was walking around campus with purse full of beers. He looked like Alan from The Hangover. He also stayed up until 9:30 am. He called me at 7:30 and asked where I was. I told him where I was and told him I was going to go back to sleep. He called me at 7:40 and asked where I was. I told him the same thing.
Scott quotes from last night:
"I feel like a newborn baby. I can't hold my fucking head up."
"I don't owe a Cubs fan anything. I don't care if they ree-sus-sus-atate me after a terrible plane crash. You have a beautiful face for a Cubs fan."
Me: "Scott what are you doing?"
Scott: "Karate choppin'."
"I was seriously a black belt fifteen minutes ago."
"I believe in racism. I believe in satan. But I don't believe in the Cubs."
"The Goblet of Fire and the Bradberry bag."
"Stick it up your ass and get the fuck over here."
"Room poop. Poop room."
"I'd rather have Dumbledore."
(while we were arguing about who should narrate the discovery channel show "Life.")
The next morning...
"I mean if Lisa Leslie invited me back to her room, I'd go."
"It's like the fucking movie. We're trying to find Private Ryan."
"Where'd your fucking stupid Malaysian hat go?"
"Private littering is romantic."
"Listen, I do wanna touch your ass, but I wanna do it under my own power."
"Somebody give me scissors so I can cut off that stupid shirt Allison has on."
"You literally just liberated my asshole."
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