Submit your Hamline confession here: (100% anonymous)
I really wanna fuck a hamline squirrel
Let's get one simple fact straight: Beyoncé IS NOT a fucking queen! She ISN'T a fucking goddess! That Grammy Award performance was one of the most fucking narcissistic, revolting, half assed things I and others have ever seen. Any of you do love it or had organismed by it, you're a lowlife, brain dead plebs who don't value themselves. Overrated celeb trying to walk out there like some golden clothed Virgin Mary... Blasphemous. And her fans.... peasants. That's all you are to her.
I fuck with the dark side and occasionally have drawn power from forbidden realms
My father's last words were "it's no good if it can't go bad."
He died balls deep in a butternut squash.
His love of produce-based wordplay was exceeded only by his love of produce itself.
He died as he lived - making comically bad decisions that exposed his deepest flaws in the most revealing ways possible.
I share 50% of his DNA.
I'm just trying to make this thing work.
Michael Jackson said he wrote Billie Jean driving around making a random beat with his mouth.
I assume most of our origins are owed to similar moments of inspiration.
Whatever poison may be swirling in your well, one day you may find yourself alone in your car, driving down the highway, making weird noises.
You may wonder what comes next.
You might make it happen.
Love has never been easy for me but I don’t think it’s supposed to be.
If you don’t have to work for something, you won’t appreciate its value - and if you aren’t ever in danger of losing it, you’ll probably take it for granted.
Before I met my wife, I weighed over 400 pounds and listened exclusively to pop punk CDs I had bought at Sam Goody in middle school. I was a scared person, primarily motivated by what I didn't want to happen as opposed to what I actually wanted.
I met the woman of my dreams working as a repo man, sent by her collectors to repossess her refrigerator. She answered the door in her curlers and a pink bathrobe. When I saw her, my heart literally stopped. Her three adult sons took me to the ER. I made a full recovery and proceeded to marry their mom.
I cannot begin to describe the level of my respect for her dazzling intellect and magnificent spirit - truly, the depths of my devotion to her knew no bounds.
She liked that I liked her.
Her boys were always annoyed by my beautiful singing voice and would mercilessly mock my falsetto during her daily breakfast serenade.
She never seemed to mind so I tried not to let it bother me.
The 5 of us lived together at varying degrees of happiness for 25 years. She always struggled with money. I am still trying to lose weight.
She achieved rainbow body upon her passing. The next morning, all I found under the blanket was her weave and toenails after she had become a body of pure light.
I feel honored to have witnessed my life partner realize such a profound destiny.
I would like to participate in the next stage of human evolution myself one day.
Sometimes I have one of the boys pick up a 2 liter of Diet Dr. Pepper from Wing Stop for me and skip the chicken.
I have learned to accept that they will never appreciate my songs the way their mother did.
I express myself in other ways, mostly by myself after dark.
Sometimes I go up on the roof at night and howl at the moon. Other times, I just sit alone in the garage and stare at my hands. I turn the lights off, do jumping jacks and watch darkness bounce. I lay breathless on the cold concrete and think about absolutely nothing at all.
I wish I had learned more from her but I did what I could.
I still do what I can.
That's all I can do.
Who's that hottie with the fedora tho???
Anyone else have specific baristas at starbucks that they won't go to because they suck at making drinks.
Dear Safety and security,
You are not real police officers, please stop acting like it.